


Such a Cliche

by orphan_account



Series: Laying Out All My Cards and its Sequels [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst Level: Minimum, F/F, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Sulkygeek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 88,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29209620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is the third in a series and follows: 'Laying Out all My Cards' and 'Start of Something' Basically it follows Rachel and Quinn through the progression of their fairly new relationship. It's really not particularly interesting.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Series: Laying Out All My Cards and its Sequels [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144586
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Such A Cliché  
> Author: Sulkygeek  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Length: 88,477  
> Spoilers: Through current season 3, episode 6  
> Summary: This is the third in a series and follows: 'Laying Out all My Cards' and 'Start of Something' Basically it follows Rachel and Quinn through the progression of their fairly new relationship. It's really not particularly interesting.
> 
> Also, thanks to emma_energy who wanted me to give Hope a boyfriend in this. It's a very brief plotline, but it was her idea.

Rachel would never cop to it, but she loves trashy TV. Not in the literal sense, like about trash collectors or _Hoarders_ (though she readily admits, the latter is a staple but primarily for its eerie theme music), but in the _Jersey Shore_ and _Real Housewives of Wherever_ sense. She just loves how brazen people are. She is aware, of course, that a lot of it is creative editing. But she knows she's too self-conscious to ever be herself when a camera is rolling on her. She can simulate 'natural,' but she would never be completely herself.

She's accustomed to playing roles-- has trained for it all her life, but the thought of putting the worst parts of herself out there in the world for public consumption and dissection is frightening .

She wants success so badly she can taste it. But she still can't imagine putting her worst face forward the way so many reality show participants seem to do. It's hard enough to be liked putting one's best face forward, it's unfathomable a person could be loved putting his or her worst face forward.

A common staple of reality television is the Spring Break episode which never fails to horrify and titillate Rachel. There's this image of a Spring Break taking place in Miami or Daytona or some other place that MTV invades with a bunch of drunken, leering kids behaving like fools. It _fascinates_ Rachel. Are all those people _friendless orphans_? Rachel can't imagine behaving that way in public, let alone in front of a camera. If she were ever caught on film at anything but her best, each of her parents would disown her and her friends would justifiably mock her to the end of time.

Still, some part of her envies people who are capable of just letting go like that. Until Rachel met Quinn, she's never been truly able to let go with _anyone_ even when she there was no camera rolling. She's accustomed to putting up a façade-- a 'show face' so optimistic it could cure cancer.

Rachel won't ever claim meeting Quinn changed _everything_ , but it changed _enough_. Rachel can't ever remember feeling this good about herself-- all of her life, she was always aiming higher, trying to be better and having a lot of pressure on her to accomplish…everything. Quinn isn't exactly an easy-going person, but she is just _so_ accepting and forgiving of all of her faults, Rachel feels completely accepted which she's never had before.

\--

Rachel has never been able to experience a real Spring Break, and she's always been okay with that. But this year, for the first time, she wants the stereotype of Spring Break because she wants to spend it with Quinn. Everyone always seems to have an amazing Spring Break story and Rachel wants to have at least one with Quinn.

Rachel discounts any Spring Break before high school, because _hello_ , she was thirteen when she enrolled in McKinley as a ninth grader, and she can recognize that anything before that was a little too young for the Spring Break experience.

She never got to experience Spring Break her freshman year of high school because her mother was still going through chemo and Rachel spent that entire week scrubbing vomit out of the carpet next to her mother's bed, doing laundry, comforting her terrified little sister and praying for her mother to live long enough to see her go into the next grade. It was her first year of high school, and she really felt like she needed her mom more than ever, forgetting she felt the same way about going into middle school and starting her first day of first grade when neither Mercedes nor Tina were in her class. Later on, she'd realize she just needed her mom, period, but back then, she felt the need particularly acutely.

The following year, she was in a singing contest. The contest was only one day, but her fathers and mother made her give up Spring Break to practice her song until it was perfect. She won first place-- a thousand dollars. She put the trophy up with her others and her prize money was immediately deposited into her college fund to accrue interest. Though she wished she could have spent Spring Break like other kids, she also thought it was worth it. 'Eyes on the prize, baby,' her daddy told her any time she complained, and to this day, Rachel still takes that advice to heart.

The year after that, she missed Spring Break because of rehearsals for _My Fair Lady_ performed through community theatre. She didn't mind forgoing Spring Break for that, even though participating wasn't her idea because she genuinely loved it. Back then, as a junior in high school, she decided she's more pragmatic about things than any of her parents, because all she wants, even now, is to be able to have a career doing what she loves that will provide for her basic living expenses. The accolades and adulation are things her parents want for her, and she wants those, too, but acclaim, accolades and adulation would just be perks for her, while acclaim, accolades and adulation seem like the whole point for her parents. The whole point for Rachel is to be able to do what she loves.

Senior year of high school, she really thought she was going to get to celebrate Spring Break and had her plans laid out with her best friends, Mercedes Jones and Tina Cohen-Chang. Then her little sister got an infection and almost died, so Rachel kept vigil for two weeks inside the PICU at Lima Memorial Hospital while their parents screamed at one another in blame for her sister's condition. Rachel prayed for her sister, the way she prayed for each of their parents through each of their bouts with cancer. She didn't know why her fathers and her mother didn't get along with each other-- the three of them willingly brought two children into the world.

By the time she got to college, the words 'Spring Break' made her a little wary because she associated the words with catastrophe and/or sacrifice.

She spent her Spring Break of her freshman year in college fairly unremarkably with her little sister visiting her in LA. Audrey was a senior in high school then and just needed some time away from the suffocating presence of their parents. It was boring, but she also got to spend it with Quinn, so it was perfect and Rachel started to believe that jinx has been broken.

This year, she makes all kinds of plans for Spring Break and marries herself to them because her plans revolve around seeing Quinn in a bikini and having loads of drunken sex in a cabana by the beach (Santana's parents' time-share which they aren't using this year because Santana's father has a medical conference and he wants Santana's mom at his side, looking hot). It'll be her first time in Cancun, so Rachel makes distant plans to see landmarks or whatever, but primarily, her plans revolve around doing things with Quinn that they can't talk about in polite company.

Rachel lets herself get excited about it, because she long ago decided for herself that even though life has a tendency to continually disappoint her, it's also not worth living if she can't get excited about things. Somewhere in the back of her mind, this little voice whispers 'Spring Break curse' at her, but she manages to ignore it most of the time with thoughts of blue, blue water and thoughts of drunken sex with Quinn. She also hopes that being in a foreign country will make Quinn a little less nervous about doing little things like holding her hand in public. Quinn's gotten better with it, for which Rachel is very glad. She's never said anything because she knows Quinn will feel like she's being called out on it, and that's not Rachel's intent, and really, it would just make things worse because Quinn is so fragile about that sort of thing. But just because she's never said anything does not mean she's never noticed or that she's not equally as fragile about that sort of thing, just in a way that seems to be (unfortunately) in reverse to the way Quinn is.

Sometimes, she wants to ask Quinn, 'no really, I won't be mad, but are you ashamed of me?' but she doesn't because she's afraid the answer will be 'yes' and worst of all, if the answer is 'yes,' she really _won't_ be mad. Rachel thinks at the very least, if Quinn is ashamed of her, she should be entitled to being a little mad. But sadly enough, if Quinn's actually ashamed of her, all it would do is make Rachel sad and feel vaguely pathetic and neither of those are emotions she feels like putting herself through by asking questions she's not 100% certain of the answers.

\--

She tries on a baby blue bikini that she doesn't think is all that great, but when she turns around to ask for Quinn's opinion, the blonde's eyes light up.

Rachel's mouth opens to instinctively ask, "do I look okay?" but there's this _look_ on Quinn's face that makes her approval so _obvious_ and she doesn't want to be one of those needy girls who are desperate to hear the approval they clearly already have.

Quinn's left hand raises and Rachel thinks Quinn is going to touch her cheek (she loves the feel of Quinn's palm on her cheek), but Quinn presses two silencing fingers over Rachel's slightly parted lips. "You should buy that," Quinn breathes, whimpering softly. "Please buy that." Quinn's eyes are as wide as saucers and her pupils are _huge_.

Rachel swallows hard and nods.

Quinn smiles and pushes a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear. Quinn pauses for a moment, her hand hovering in Rachel's hair and then Quinn smiles again. She gently pinches Rachel's cheek which makes both of them giggle.

This is the thing with this girl, Rachel realizes. When Quinn touches her, even when it's just innocuous like this, Rachel can feel how sincerely Quinn loves her. It's not that Rachel's never felt physical affection in her life-- she doesn't have reactive attachment disorder, for God's sake. But her parents mostly touch her to fix her hair or her clothes or to pinch fat around her arms or hips. Once, her daddy groped her chest to fix her shirt (she was fifteen, her breasts had only recently come in and the top she was wearing was a little baggy) and the experience was mortifying for both of them. Her friends are affectionate, but in a platonic way-- she believes they like her, but she doubts any of her friends actually _love_ her. Her sister is uncomfortable with any real physical affection because they grew up with parents who were hypercritical of their appearance and so Audrey tends to clap her on the back a little too hard, elbow her in the ribs or bump her shoulders.

But Quinn--oh, Quinn. She is always just so loving and Rachel always feels awful for those (rare) moments of doubting her.

Sometimes, when they are together, Rachel inwardly sings that Weezer song, 'Freak me Out,' ( _'you really freak me out, I'm so afraid of you…you came out of nowhere…'_ ) because it seems apt, at least, that particular line. She loves Quinn-- a little too much for her own comfort, so Quinn terrifies her, too. She's been in love before, but this is the first time she's losing her head over it.

Rachel is always singing song lyrics in her head, whether it is her own or other people's. She tries not to sing out loud too much because it can be disruptive, but she frequently has the spontaneous urge to break into song ("like some fucking woodland creature from a Disney movie," her sister points out), but she refrains, despite the fact Rachel knows Quinn would be tolerant, or even amused by it. 'Freak Me Out' isn't her anthem when it comes to Quinn-- Rachel hasn't decided on what that is yet, and is considering writing it herself because no song she's heard yet can adequately articulate all these feelings that even the mere sight Quinn can provoke. But then again, words have been woefully insufficient to communicate all the feelings only Quinn can incur within her, so she's not sure a song would be enough either.

Rachel has been in love two other times-- but the emotions she feels now are unique to Quinn.

\--

At the moment, Rachel is in a baby blue bikini she is intent on purchasing and her heart is filled to its brim with Quinn's approval. She's never known anyone who accepts her just as she is-- everyone else she knows has gentle (and not so gentle) suggestions from 'you should lose five pounds' or 'you should do more ab work at the gym' to 'you should shut the fuck up a little more.'

"You should never wear anything else but that bikini," Quinn says, looking a little stupefied. She laughs, clearly kind of embarrassed, and ducks her head. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I sound like a teenage boy, right?"

Rachel laughs softly. "I love when you sound like a teenage boy."

'I just love you,' Rachel thinks, but this moment is light and the emotions she feels are so heavy, so she keeps that to herself, hoping it's the sort of thing that can be unspoken, at least for the day.

No one in her life has ever been as rapturously complimentary about her physical appearance as Quinn. Rachel always thought the most she'd get in her life is "oh, you look cute today" like the person is surprised she could manage to pull off a good hair day, good face day and appealing ensemble all in one day. But Quinn routinely greets her with "hey, gorgeous" or "hey, beautiful" and somehow, it's always on days when Rachel really needs to hear it. Like Quinn's psychic.

"Do you want my voice to crack, too?" Quinn jokes.

Rachel chuckles. "You mean like some teenage boy soprano whose testicles haven't dropped yet? No."

Quinn stares at her. "You're spending way too much time around Santana."

Rachel shrugs and smiles impishly. "I like your friends."

"They like you, too," Quinn says softly.

Rachel's smile broadens. She hopes so. She's worked hard to get Quinn's best friends to like her because she knows Santana and Brittany's approval is important to Quinn.

"So, like, you're buying that, right?" Quinn asks, blushing darkly, gesturing toward the bikini Rachel is still wearing. "I mean, if it's a money issue, _I'll_ buy it for you."

"I guess you really like me in this bikini," Rachel teases.

Quinn smiles shyly and takes Rachel hands and guides it past the waistband of her skirt. Rachel swallows hard when she feels how wet Quinn is and pulls her hand away.

"Wow," Rachel breathes, bringing her hand to her mouth to suck on her fingers to get a taste of Quinn.

Quinn's eyes become wide. "Wow," Quinn echoes softly.

They exchange shy smiles and Rachel's eyes drop to gaze at the ground before peeking up look at Quinn bashfully.

"Hi," Rachel says shyly.

"Hi," Quinn responds quietly. "I'm sorry for acting like some horny toad. It's just that you look really good in that bikini. But I know you would look amazing in anything, baby," she says sincerely, hazel eyes gazing into Rachel. Quinn bites her lower lip. "You always look so amazing," she murmurs.

Rachel swallows hard. That little taste she had of Quinn is not enough. Rachel shucks off the bikini, gets on her knees and kneels in front of Quinn in supplicant pose. She reaches up to put her hands under Quinn's skirt to rest her hands on Quinn's thighs and pulls them farther apart.

Quinn's eyes are wide. "What are you doing?" she whispers loudly.

Rachel raises a shushing finger to her own lips, silently urging Quinn to be quiet. She pulls down Quinn's damp underwear.

"I like you, too," Rachel murmurs before she brings her lips between Quinn's legs and gives a slow lick.

Quinn lets out a low shuddering moan, but manages to compose herself. "Rach--"

"Shh…" Rachel whispers.

Quinn whimpers and then rolls her hips forward, pushing herself closer to Rachel.

Rachel's head is under Quinn's skirt, so her vision is completely obscured. But she hears Quinn's muffled moans and suspects Quinn has her fist pressed against her mouth-- Rachel loves it when Quinn does that. It's always the last vestige of control before Quinn really lets go.

Rachel eats Quinn out until a particularly loud moan that even Quinn's fist pressed into her mouth can't conceal gets some salesgirl to knock on their door and ask if everything is okay.

Rachel keeps Quinn from saying something really sarcastic and nasty by clenching tightly to Quinn's thighs, but only barely.

Rachel licks her lips and then wipes her thumb across her bottom lip. She grins at Quinn.

"We're fine, really," Rachel calls out to the salesgirl with the worst timing, ever. "We'll be out in a moment."

Quinn's eyes are pleading and her hand in Rachel's hair starts pulling frantically. Quinn begins to feverishly rub her hand between her legs, but Rachel chuckles softly and pulls Quinn's hand away. Rachel takes pity as she finishes what she starts and begins sucking, hard, on Quinn's clit.

Quinn comes with a shuddered moan which is loud enough to be audible, but is still mostly concealed as she bites her own hand, breaking skin.

Rachel gets off her knees and stands up. She brings Quinn's hand to her mouth and kisses it. "You okay, baby? Does it hurt?" she asks worriedly.

Quinn's grin is blissful as she shakes her head. "I'm fine. Let's get out of here." Her grin is so broad, it looks like it will split her face.

"You," Rachel drawls, poking Quinn in the shoulder, "look very smug and self-satisfied and I am uncertain if it's because I am just that good or because I did that at all."

Quinn tries, but fails, to wipe the grin off her face-- it just broadens, actually.

"Quinn," Rachel complains good-naturedly, rolling her eyes.

Quinn just chuckles this low, dorky stoner laugh. "Heh heh heh huh huh ha ha ha" and then ducks her head, bites her lower lip and smiles shyly at Rachel. "Um, a little bit of both?" she ventures.

Rachel can't help it- she bursts into laughter. Sure, she never pictured herself going down on someone in the fitting room of a department store, but she's never been opposed to the idea and she has to admit she feels a little blissful, too. And even though she is now wondering if her knees have touched the ground where someone's feces-laden shoes have trod or whatever, it is so worth it to hear Quinn laugh like that. Quinn is usually so poised that hearing her laugh like an imbecile, albeit an adorable one, is totally worth the extra exfoliation she will have to do to her knees and calves that night. And anyway, she has a checklist of sexual things she wants to try and public place _is_ one of them. The fitting room counts. Sort of.

\--

Rachel buys the bikini, and Quinn buys one she's already tried on and dismissed earlier but is now somehow, suddenly, totally acceptable to her.

They try to get home as soon as possible, but leaving the Grove is _ridiculous_ and Rachel barely refrains from telling Quinn, "I told you we should go to the Westside Pavilion!"

In truth, all the shopping malls in the greater LA area are toxically congested, but at least Westside Pavilion is closer to both their apartments than the Grove. Despite being in LA for nearly two years, Rachel still can't get over how ridiculous it is to pay for parking to _shop_.

On the drive home, Rachel is tempted to reach across the centre console and slip her hand under Quinn's skirt, but her horniness does not override her firm belief that operating a motor vehicle is too important to be impeded by sex--especially because Quinn is driving and Quinn can't multitask sex with something as prosaic as driving. Although to be fair, neither can she.

Rachel knows this because they've experimented to see if either of them can still do some mundane tasks with the other's fingers buried inside of them or one of their heads between the legs of the other and so far, neither of them can pull off reading, typing, Skyping, pirating music or talking on the phone. It's a fair assumption that neither of them can pull off driving and having sex at the same time, too. It's syllogistic, but logical.

When they get back to her apartment, Rachel tells this to Quinn as she's walking backward toward the bedroom with Quinn legs wrapped around her waist. They're both already half-naked and when Rachel tells Quinn, "I wanted to fuck you on the car ride over here, but I didn't want to cause an accident," Rachel meant it to be hot-- hence using her best sultry voice and the word 'fuck' which really isn't a part of her normal repertoire.

It doesn't have the intended (or expected) effect because Quinn stares at her and starts laughing so hard, they start to collapse and they both drop to the ground because Rachel can't accommodate the change in equilibrium.

"You're a _terrible_ driver! Since when do you _care_ about road safety?" Quinn gasps out, hooting and slapping her hand on the floor in delirious amusement. "You have road rage _and_ you don't know how to parallel park! And while I'm not sure about this, I think you can't park when going in from the left-- you have to go in from the right. You. Can't. Drive. And now you're talking about road safety?!" Quinn cracks up. "Oh my God."

Rachel pouts mightily, very indignant at the suggestion she doesn't care about road safety. "I told you! I can't parallel park because of my temporal-spatial deficit! But I am otherwise a very safe, very good driver! I have a multitude of talents and abilities, but parallel parking is not one of them! I don't know what the big deal is, everywhere in LA has valet!"

This makes Quinn _shriek_ with laughter-- she's practically laying flat on her stomach. "Snob!" Quinn manages to gasp out.

Rachel pouts and her forehead furrows into a frown but she lends a hand to Quinn to get up once she rises to her own feet. She's not pleased about the aspersions cast on her driving ability, but she's still gallant enough to offer a hand to a fallen comrade and she considers Quinn both a lover and a friend.

Quinn grins up at her, and it's adorable-- her head cocked to one side as if to ascertain Rachel's motives and that sheepish, vaguely apologetic, but always adoring quirk of the lips into that sweet smile with that lush mouth.

_'Touch me, baby, can't you see that I am not afraid,'_ Rachel sings inwardly in her head, hearing the beats of that Doors song as Quinn's hand slips in hers. She's always loved to sing, but she finds herself singing or humming all the time now. 'Song in my heart,' Rachel thinks wryly to herself, because she's fully aware that she is a cliché. She's okay with that when it comes to Quinn, but still, she's a little embarrassed for herself with how fully she meets the criteria for every love cliché known to man. Her heart skips beats and birds really do suddenly seem to appear (and not in a horrific Hitchcock way) when Quinn is near.

Rachel takes Quinn by the hand and by some unspoken agreement, they take off running toward the bedroom.

Laughing, they jump on the bed. Rachel grabs a pillow with both hands and swings it sideways to hit Quinn on the arm.

Quinn throws her head back and laughs that wonderful full, belly laugh. Not a dry, vaguely congratulatory laugh like a pat on the head for a job well done, bestowed from a queen to a commoner or like a parent to a toddler; but a genuine, uncontrolled laugh from the mouth of someone who loves her.

Rachel's heart swells up to grow three sizes larger to make room for all the love she feels for this girl. She looks at Quinn and thinks to herself, 'I would give up anything for you.' It's frightening to realize that it's true, but then Quinn smiles at her again-- that soft smile Quinn always gets when something is about to happen between them and Rachel forgets about being freaked out and takes off her shirt instead (how else to end an unwarranted freakout, Rachel wonders to herself. It seems logical enough.)

When Quinn smiles at her like that, the only rational Rachel can think to do is get naked. Rachel's jeans and underwear are already off-- discarded the moment she entered her apartment, so all she needs to do now is take off her shirt and bra.

The moment Rachel does, Quinn, already naked, pounces on her.

Giggling, Rachel gets on her back and pulls Quinn down to her.

\--

Quinn Fabray makes Rachel lose her mind.

Rachel is fully cognizant of this fact.

It's happened from the moment she lays eyes on Quinn when she turns around after shutting the door to Finn Hudson's dorm room in hopes to make a fast getaway and instead set her eyes on the most beautiful girl she's ever seen. The first time she lays eyes on Quinn, Rachel swears her heart skips a beat and all that cliché stuff she'd always believed to be…well, cliché until that moment.

Her first thought after 'she's beautiful' is a dismayed 'now she thinks I'm a slut' because it's apparent to anyone that she's about to do the walk-of-shame. She is so preoccupied by thoughts of 'she thinks I'm a slut, she thinks I'm a slut,' she barely registers introductions, though Rachel hears 'Quinn.' She isn't sure she heard right until she sees Quinn again in the library and re-introductions are a little more formal. She plays it cool because she definitely doesn't want to be that psychotic girl screaming 'please marry me! I'll spend my life at your beck and call and indulging your every whim' to a person she's just met. Besides, back then, before she really got to know Quinn, it was more about a carnal attraction.

Now Rachel is so emotionally invested in Quinn, she has this insane desire to plan her entire life around Quinn, though she refuses to do so (she has more self-respect than that). She is certain she's losing her mind and she blames Quinn, fully.

But at the moment, Rachel is losing her mind because Quinn has three fingers inside her, buried knuckle-deep and is sucking on her neck. Quinn's other hand is groping one of Rachel's breasts-- Quinn is miraculously, rapturously, thankfully, incredibly ambidextrous.

Rachel can't _think_ \-- this is probably one of the reasons sex with Quinn is so good.

Rachel doesn't like to think of her first sexual experience-- it was painful and not entirely consensual. She doesn't look back on it with regret, though she used to. Later on, she became glad she got it over with because it didn't hurt as much when she finally had sex with Mike (who definitely disproves the myth about Asian men's penises) But she still recalls the sting of Sheryl's hand slapping her, hard, on her cheek when she changed her mind for the third time. The slap to her face was so humiliating for her, she's never been able even tell Quinn- about it. Up until then, the only people who'd ever slapped her in the face were her parents and her sister. It was so shocking to have an outsider do it, that she quieted down right away and gave into whatever Sheryl wanted, especially after Sheryl told her to "be a good girl."

When it was happening, she kept wishing that something would interrupt them-- maybe not something as embarrassing as a parent walking in on them, but maybe an earthquake (a literal one, not the metaphor-for-orgasm kind) or a cell phone ringing.

Afterward, she remembers trying not to cry (but failing) as she biked to her mother's house from the library (this is what angers Rachel most when she looks back on it-- she lost her virginity, not entirely willingly, and she couldn't even get a ride home out of it. Instead, she got dropped off at the library where she'd left her bike). She remembers being really angry about it for a long time, but particularly that first night when her whole body was sore.

She took it out on Audrey that night because she'd screamed "leave me the fuck alone for once!" when Audrey knocked on her bedroom door to ask "do you want to watch _the Golden Compass_ and then have a _Star Wars_ marathon with me?" The needlessly and uncharacteristically harsh response made Audrey cry, so her sister ratted her out, their mother yelled at her for being mean to Audrey and she was grounded for the rest of the night, which was fine with Rachel because she really didn't want to do much but lie in bed and cry anyway.

She still feels guilty about that to this day because she and Audrey grew up sniping at and hitting one another like normal siblings, but she was never aggressive toward Audrey like that when all Audrey wanted to do was spend some time together.

Overall though, other than that first one, Rachel would describe her sexual experiences as being very good.

Still though, there were times when she was having sex with people _other_ than Quinn, when she was distracted in the middle of it-- whether it was by thoughts of an essay she hadn't started on, or a music lesson she needed to get to or an audition or competition she was worried about. She thought it was normal-- after all, didn't people talk about getting distracted by thoughts of dirty dishes or the dog needing to be let out to pee while _in flagrante delicto_ and that was considered somehow normal?

She resigned herself to that, thinking that's just the way it was-- until Quinn.

She looks back on it now and realizes she's always just been a little guarded when it comes to sex.

With Quinn, there is never any distraction. Rachel just loses her mind. Most of the time, she could barely manage coherent words-- only vaguely aware of grunting out sounds.

At the moment with Quinn's mouth between her legs, Rachel is very much in the moment and very much distraction-free.

Rachel can't control the sounds that tear out of her throat. Her fingers clench around the sheets and her hips buck up as she tries to rub herself harder against Quinn's face. Her body is covered in sweat and she can feel it trailing down her back and ass. She makes an incoherent plea for release, more of a whine escaping in a squeak from deep within her throat.

Quinn's hands grip tighter into Rachel's thighs, holding her down.

"Easy, baby," Quinn coos soothingly. "We've got time."

Rachel is sweaty and her bangs are plastered to her forehead. She really can't even hear very well-- there's swishing in her ears like she has shells pressed to her ear and she can intermittently feel air as her hips and back buck off the bed.

Maybe Quinn has time, but Rachel feels like she'll break if she doesn't come _right_ now. Quinn has never teased her this way, and Rachel finds it simultaneously arousing and maddening.

"Please," Rachel manages to gasp out. She shuts her eyes tightly. "Please."

The pressure of Quinn's mouth against her is delicious. Every lick makes her body hum with pleasure but there's this ache building up in her and Rachel isn't sure how much more she can take. Her fists clench and unclench in the air.

"Please," Rachel pleads.

She really can't take it anymore and her hand slips between her legs so she can rub her thumb against her clit. She feels the desperate need to get off _right_ now and if Quinn told her to start humping her leg like an animal, Rachel would do it-- the need and desperation are that acute.

She feels Quinn's hand grab hers, stilling it.

Rachel wants to cry. She is not used to be put off this way.

"Easy, baby," Quinn repeats again, quietly. "Trust me, okay? I'm going to make you feel so good."

"Please, please," Rachel begs, and she's ready to start sobbing. Her nipples are tight and are throbbing, begging to be touched, so she raised her hands and starts desperately tweaking at her nipples.

"God, that's hot," Quinn whispers. "Keep doing that. You can touch yourself there, but not here," Quinn whispers, fingering Rachel's pussy. "This is just for me." She pulls her fingers out.

Rachel wants to cry as Quinn just stares at her for a moment as she pinches her own nipples. "Please," Rachel begs.

"Trust me," Quinn whispers. Rachel's plea for release seems to take Quinn out of her trance because her eyes tear away from Rachel's breasts. Quinn rubs her nose against Rachel's clit. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Rachel grinds out. "Yes!" She's desperate for release. If Quinn asked her to get on her knees and beg for it, she'd do it. Every second that passes, she feels her need grow more intense.

"Okay," Quinn whispers, her breath tickling Rachel and the sensation makes everything better and worse at the same time

And then Quinn begins sucking on Rachel's clit and Rachel is pushed closer the release she needs. The more pressure Quinn uses, the closer Rachel gets, until Quinn gives her a hard, long suck.

Rachel cries out hoarsely as she comes and Quinn still doesn't release her as Rachel coats Quinn's face. She hears Quinn laugh, and for a nanosecond, Rachel thinks maybe Quinn is mocking her, but then she hears the joy in Quinn's voice and Rachel laughs a little, too, although that quickly turns into a ragged moan when Quinn sucks her clit particularly hard. Her hands still clutch the sheets and she tries to catch her breath, but she can't. Both her feet cramp up as her toes curl.

Rachel croaks incoherently and her eyes squeeze shut as hard as they can. Quinn curls two fingers inside Rachel.

Rachel comes again with another scream and she's still trembling when Quinn moves up the length of her body and hugs Rachel close. Rachel's body is still quivering, and the feel of Quinn's mouth ghosts between Rachel's legs. She can still feel those fingers moving inside her, that mouth sucking on her. She involuntarily twitches.

"You okay, baby?" Quinn whispers, brushing away Rachel's sweaty bangs and smoothing her hand across Rachel's forehead. She kisses Rachel's temple. "Baby?" she asks, sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

Rachel can't respond, so she doesn't and Quinn's voice comes at her again, this time panicked.

"Rachel!"

Rachel can't formulate words quite yet, so she settles for kissing Quinn deeply, her mouth desperately seeking out Quinn's. She melds herself as closely to Quinn as she can.

"I thought I hurt you," Quinn confesses quietly, after they've pulled apart and each of their breathing evens out. "You weren't saying anything." She bites her lower lip. "I thought you didn't like it," she says softly.

"God, no," Rachel murmurs, as one hand strokes the side of Quinn's neck. Quinn's mouth is just _luscious_. "You just…" she smiles wryly. "In the common parlance, I would say you blew my mind."

"Good," Quinn breathes, clearly relieved. "You looked hot. I really want to do that to you again."

Rachel chuckles softly. "I really want you to do that to me again, too," she murmurs

Rachel wouldn't consider herself a person who is inhibited when it comes to sex (she would like to believe the exact opposite, but that's not exactly true), but of all the people she's ever had sex with, it's Quinn with whom she feels the most comfortable. Thus far, their sex life has been fairly tame-- not exactly what anyone would call kinky, except for some mild dirty talk and a few public places that really weren't _that_ public.

There are a few things Rachel hopes they'll eventually get around to, it's just that she's not quite ready to have that conversation with Quinn yet. Their relationship is still fairly new, after all. The thought of prefacing 'but can I fuck you with a strap-on?' with 'I know we've only been dating a few months' makes Rachel cringe, despite the fact she really does want to try sex with a strap-on.

The mechanics of it seem a little intimidating to Rachel though, and she has this humiliating mental image of putting on a strap-on, and accidentally putting it in the wrong hole or something. Or possibly somehow poking her eye out. Or worse, Quinn's eye.

Did that sort of thing happen in reality or just in the outlandish hypotheticals of her own mind? She's only semi-experienced-- nowhere near an expert on sexual matters. She's not even exactly sure how her period works.

And anyway, Rachel's still discovering her own kinks, but pirate and/or Cyclops fetish are definitely not one of them, so she thinks the strap-on should be reserved for a time when they're both a little more experienced, a lot more confident and the risk of accidental blinding is nil.

As it is, Rachel's still terrified sometimes that Quinn doesn't actually find her attractive and that Quinn isn't as satisfied as she claims.

There are still times when, after sex, she is terrified by the thought of Quinn shoving her out of bed and pointing down to her naked body and saying 'ha ha' like Nelson Muntz from _The Simpsons_. In less vulnerable moments, this thought makes herself laugh because it’s pretty stupid, but when she's _naked_ after she's just begged Quinn, 'please, please _pretty_ please ' the thought doesn't feel that stupid. And anyway, it comes very close as an accurate descriptor of what happened the first time she ever slept with another girl. Sheryl Spencer didn't pull a Nelson Muntz on her, but she did laugh and humiliate her.

The fear Quinn would do something similar still haunts Rachel sometimes and it doesn't go away until she has Quinn's body pressed tightly into hers, like holding on as tightly as she can is a spell against being discarded.

As they lie in bed, they talk about all the things they're going to do together in Cancun. Rachel's never been, but Quinn went the summer between graduating high school and starting college with Santana, Brittany and Santana's parents.

"You're going to love it," Quinn assures. "We're going to have so much fun."

Rachel is genetically predisposed to worrying and over-planning, so a myriad of worries spring to her mind, ranging from the mundane and possible to the absurd and implausible. She parts her lips to speak, but Quinn smiles, and as if sensing all the protests and fears Rachel is going to voice, Quinn kisses her, long and deep.

When they part, Quinn only moves her head a fraction, so that when she smiles again, Rachel can feel the movement against her lips. _'Your smile is a drug,'_ Rachel inwardly sings in her head. She wishes she didn't keep thinking in song. It happens most frequently around Quinn-- it's not like she does laundry and sings _'It's a beautiful morning, I think I'll go outside for a while and jus' smile'_.

Quinn pulls her head back to regard her. "We're going to have so much fun," she whispers. "Trust me."

And Rachel does. Rachel talks about the things she's read about Cancun in guide books and online-- recites places she wants to visit, restaurants she wants to try and landmarks she wants to fuck at. Quinn laughs softly and Rachel is still nattering on as they both fall asleep even though it's still daytime.

When they wake up, Rachel offers to make dinner, not so much because she's hungry but because it seems the least she could do after coming in Quinn's mouth twice.

Quinn considers the offer for a moment. "You know," she says, "we're not going to be this cute forever."

"Uh…okay?" Rachel says, a little warily.

"Food is always going to be around--" Quinn begins.

"Actually, there is a worldwide shortage of food," Rachel interrupts. "Even in America, one in eight people go hungry. And worldwide, almost a billion people do not have access to clean drinking water. So, really, we should not count on an abundance of food surpluses or availability of water when we are eighty and I've just now realized that you did not want me to become pedantic as I just became, nor did you want me to steer this night into a distinctly depressing direction. I apologize profusely, baby, and please continue with what you were saying before you were so rudely interrupted as I realized this is perfectly atrocious pillow talk and oh God, Quinn. I can't stop talking. Please stop me before it's too late and something calamitous hap--"

Rachel is cut off with a kiss. But she sees the amused grin on Quinn's face just before the blonde kisses her.

They kiss languidly for a few minutes until Quinn pulls away. "As I was saying," she whispers. "Food will _hopefully_ be around when we're eighty," she says teasingly, laughing when Rachel blushes. "But we're not always going to be this cute. Therefore, we should keep...." Quinn bites her lip and smiles shyly as she cups one of Rachel's breasts in her right hand to convey her intent. "Time is running out, you know."

Rachel laughs. "You make a good point," she says, making her voice very grave.

"You can cook for us when we're eighty. I mean, if food is still around and we're not all eating astronaut food or licking algae."

"Maybe _you_ can cook for us when we're eighty, if the world isn't in the grip of some horrific dystopian future where you can't get a BLT and I can't have a healthier, vegan alternative."

"But you're better at cooking, so you should do it. You know, if the world hasn't ended by then or something, Miss Optimism," Quinn points out. "I'll squash bugs. Unless you have a theory about bug survival in this vision of the future ."

Rachel makes a face-- though cooking is more strenuous than bug-squashing, she's perfectly amenable to that division of labor because she _hates_ insects. "Deal, though I am dubious about the ability of the eighty year old version of you to protect me against fearsome bugs, which will undoubtedly have evolved to be even larger and robust than they are now. So I am uncertain of how equitable this agreement is. And also, the division of labor is unfair, but I will concede to it because I love you." Rachel murmurs. She nuzzles Quinn's neck, delighting in the soft giggle that elicits. "C'mere, baby," she whispers, pulling Quinn closer. "Enough talk about insects and dystopian futures. If there's ever a zombie apocalypse, I promise to shoot our way out of it and blow zombie heads off."

Quinn smiles wryly. "You must think pretty highly of yourself if you're certain you'd survive a zombie apocalypse." She pauses when she sees the suddenly far-off look in Rachel's eyes. "You're singing that Cranberries' song in your head, aren't you?"

Rachel blushes, because it's true. She had been. But she couldn't help it!

Quinn laughs, practically squealing. "Baby! It's so cute how you think you could shoot your way out of a zombie apocalypse!"

Rachel smiles confidently. "I could make it happen."

Quinn suddenly moves her head to brings her lips against Rachel's neck. She lightly bites down. "Ha!" she says triumphantly. "If I were a zombie, you'd be infected," she says smugly.

Rachel nuzzles Quinn's neck. "Then I better eat you before you eat me," she purrs, and she knows that's probably one of the dumbest comebacks she's ever uttered, but one rarely has the opportunity to say something like that, and so Rachel took it. She clambers down the length of Quinn's body to bring her lips between Quinn's legs.

\--

Quinn falls asleep afterward, which Rachel understands because she took great care in exhausting her. It's late, or perhaps early. Rachel is never quite certain how to describe this time. It's too early for her 5am run but too late to really do anything else.

Rachel gets out of bed and pulls out an oversized t-shirt from her dresser which hits her mid-thigh, but declines to put on any other article of clothing since it'll just come off anyway.

She walks into her kitchen and contemplates what to make and ultimately decides on a vegetable omelet using egg substitute. She brews some decaffeinated coffee because both she and Quinn enjoy the taste of coffee more than they need the caffeine.

She's cooking an omelet to share when she abruptly feels a smack on her bare butt.

"I'd like this more if you would just cook naked," Quinn murmurs as she rubs Rachel's ass.

Rachel snorts and she steps away from Quinn's invasive hands, swatting at them. Quinn is similarly clad in only an oversized t-shirt. "Clearly you've never experienced the sting of hot oil splattering against your bare breasts."

Quinn is quiet very briefly before she responds. "No," she says slowly. "But given the right type of oil, I would be open to that, baby."

Rachel giggles and she turns to face Quinn. They exchange a quick peck on the lips before Rachel turns her attention back to the stove to plate the omelet.

"We can eat this at the table, or we can eat in bed, it's up to you."

Quinn smiles wryly. "Do you really have to ask me?"

Rachel beams. No, she really doesn't.

\--

The closer they get to Spring Break, the more excited Rachel becomes. She and Quinn can't seem to have a conversation about it where it doesn't come up. Even Santana, who really isn't the excitable type , seems eager-- though Rachel suspects the two things Santana is really looking forward to is tequila and Brittany, both of which Santana can easily get in LA, any time she wants.

In Rachel's opinion, Santana Lopez is a hooligan who will undoubtedly be a member of Congress before she's thirty. Santana denies political aspirations, but Rachel knows Santana could think of a good smear campaign in _minutes_ and could do so in an inebriated state that could incapacitate ponies.

Still, Rachel tries not to bring Cancun up much when she hosts weekly dinners at her apartment, because there are usually other people than the four of them. Jesse doesn't care, of course-- he's immune to such things ('such an automaton,' Rachel sometimes thinks with affectionate exasperation), but it's Hope who Rachel worries about.

Despite the fact Hope and Quinn are definitely on the outs, Rachel still hopes they can salvage the friendship. Rachel sincerely likes Hope a lot, just not in the way Hope wants (or the way Quinn fears) and she doesn't want Hope to feel left out or cast aside-- Rachel's felt that way too many times in her life to do that to someone else. She's sincerely sorry she is the source of conflict between two good friends, but she wouldn't give Quinn up to make Hope happy. Still, Rachel wants Hope and Quinn to patch things up, but Rachel often feels like she is fighting a losing battle. Rachel hates conflict.

She's considered asking Quinn, Brittany and Santana if it would be all right to invite Hope along to Cancun-- just to make Hope feel included, but she knows it'd likely make Quinn very uncomfortable and Quinn's feelings are simply more important to Rachel than Hope's.

So Rachel has everything planned out, but the Spring Break jinx gets her yet again when her grandmother dies the day after she finishes finals-- three days before they're supposed to leave on their vacation.

\--

She has three parents, but only one grandmother-- her mother's mother. While everyone else in her life always seems to favor Audrey (nicknamed 'the baby' in their family to this day), Rachel knows her grandmother loves (loved) her best. Even in the advent of the internet, her grandmother sends (sent) her cards through the mail-- no special occasion, just a 'hello, hope you're doing well, my love' card with a crisp ten dollar bill tucked into it. Her grandmother lived on a fixed income, so the fact that her grandmother would send her ten dollars meant a lot to Rachel. Rachel always spent the ten dollars on something tasty with high fat content because such things are a rare indulgence for her, and her grandmother always wanted her to indulge a little more. Rachel always considered it somewhat of a toast.

She knows her grandmother is (was) elderly, but it still takes her by surprise when she dies.

She never prepared herself for that contingency, despite its inevitability.

Rachel loves her parents and adores her sister. But it's her grandmother she likes best.

\--

Her first instinct as she gets off the phone with her mother is to call her sister. Rachel lies on her back and mostly listens to her sister cry.

She tells Audrey that everything is going to be okay, because she knows eventually, it will, even if it doesn't feel that way yet.

"Jesus, is that your solution to everything? That everything is going to be okay, eventually? Is that why you're happy all the time? Next thing you're going to tell me is that we're all going to be dead someday anyway, so it doesn't matter. You're such a robot! You always have been!"

Audrey is bawling when she hangs up a moment later.

Rachel feels the urge to call her sister back and scream at her, but she refrains.

She wants to scream, "I always had to be the calm, happy one because you got to be the emotional, moody one, but that doesn't mean I'm a robot!" but she bites her tongue and doesn't call her sister back.

Instead, she calls Quinn and unleashes a ten minute rant about her bratty kid sister in which she barely takes a breath and concludes with her sobbing about her grandmother.

"Wait," Quinn says. "Did you just say your grandmother died?"

Rachel wants to _scream_ because of everyone in her life, Quinn is the only one who seems to move at her pace. Rachel knows she sometimes has a tendency to start conversations in the middle, and though she knows the problem, is _her_ , she can't help but be exasperated by people (everyone) who seem unable to get her. Quinn always seems to understand her, and Rachel is frustrated Quinn would choose _this_ moment to not get her-- despite knowing full well Quinn is not a mind reader.

Rachel forces herself to take a calming breath. "My mom called. My grandma died," she whispers, her voice wobbling.

"When are you going back home?"

"As soon as I can," Rachel says softly. "I have to buy Audrey's ticket, too." Rachel groans at the thought of springing for last-minute airfare for her sister. They never discussed it, but Rachel knows that Audrey is broker than she is and their mother was too distraught on the phone for it to come up. "I hate her sometimes."

"Don't book anything yet. I'll come over and we can book our tickets together, okay?"

Rachel sniffs, touched Quinn would even offer to come along. "You don't have to. I--" Rachel trails off as she realizes all of their Spring Break plans are done now. "Oh, no. We were supposed to leave with San and Brit!"

"I'll let them know," Quinn murmured. "I'm in my car. I'm on my way over. I'll be there in a few minutes, okay? Stay on with me until I get there, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel sniffles.

Quinn goes on about something-- Rachel's not really listening, which she distantly feels terrible about because it's so rare when it's like this. She's always the one rambling about something and Quinn's always listening to her, patiently, with this vaguely amused grin on her face.

Rachel pinches herself and forces her to listen. Quinn's talking about seeing some roosters improbably strutting around Westwood the other day.

A few minutes pass and Quinn murmurs "I'm just looking for parking, baby."

"Okay," Rachel says softly. "The door is unlocked."

Quinn knocks on the front door to announce her arrival, but enters without waiting for a response. Rachel is already up from the couch, running toward the door as Quinn lets herself in.

Rachel flings herself at Quinn and there's a whoosh of air expelled from Quinn's lungs as Rachel knocks into her.

"Hey, gorgeous," Quinn murmurs in Rachel's ear as she strokes her hair.

Rachel holds on fiercely. "Hey, beautiful," she says softly.

Rachel cries a little into Quinn's neck, but after a few minutes manages to pull herself together.

She feels vaguely embarrassed for herself for being so emotional, and is ready to apologize for such an embarrassing display, but then Quinn touches her cheek.

"It's okay to cry, sweetheart," Quinn comforts.

Rachel can't remember anyone ever saying that to her. She's kind of a crybaby by nature, but her parents always told her to 'toughen up.' She knows they weren't trying to be cruel or dismissive-- rather they've always explained the world is cruel, and people will make mean comments about her and she'll need to toughen up if she'll ever survive as an actress and singer. She cries a lot anyway-- she just can't help herself, but it's always felt a little shameful to her. Having Quinn tell her it's okay makes it feel…almost okay.

Rachel's eyes water, and she takes Quinn by the hand. They sit down on the couch.

"Tell me what happened," Quinn says softly.

Rachel's lip wobbles. "She had a heart attack," Rachel says softly. Her eyes tear up even more. "I love her so much," she says sadly. "She's the only one in my family who likes me better than Audrey."

She knows it's a stupid, selfish thing to be concerned with, but she just is.

Quinn strokes her hair. "Why don't you tell me about her while we book our airfare?"

Rachel shakes her head and pushes away from Quinn. She stands and walks into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. "You don't have to," she says, making an exhausting effort to steady her voice. "You should just go to Cancun with Brittany and Santana. Enjoy your Spring Break. I'll see you when we're both back and you can tell me all about it. Take a lot of pictures for me."

"I'm coming with you," Quinn says quietly, though her voice is firm.

"But Brittany and Santana--"

"I emailed them before I drove here. They already know. It's fine. They said to call them if there's anything they can do."

"Oh," Rachel says softly. She bites her lip. "I'd rather you went to Cancun with them," she whispers.

Quinn rubs her thumb on Rachel's lip. "I'd rather you let me go with you."

Rachel takes a deep breath. "But Spring Break," she says weakly. "You already have your ticket."

"That’s not important to me," Quinn says quietly, "Don't you _know_ that?"

Rachel swallows hard. "I don't have the greatest associations with Lima," she whispers. "My family…they're complicated. It's not really going to be pretty."

"That's even more reason I should come with you."

Rachel smiles wanly. "I wasn't ready for you to meet my family yet," she admits quietly. "I knew it was going to happen eventually. But I was kind of hoping you'd like me more before you got to meet them, then I would have already trapped you," she jokes.

"Rachel, I don't think I'm capable of liking you more than I already do," Quinn says. "If I liked you more, I might become retarded."

Rachel bites her lower lip and gives Quinn a shy smile. "I love you, you know, despite the fact you offensively use the word 'retarded.'"

Quinn's expression goes soft. "I know."

Rachel bites her lip again. "I'm different back home."

Quinn frowns. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see…" Rachel says vaguely trailing off. "I can't really explain it, you'll have to see it. Your parents expected you to be a certain way and well, my parents expect me to be a certain way, too…i-if you start to think that maybe you really don't know me, _you_ do, okay?"

Quinn swallows visibly, clearly a little afraid. "Okay."

Rachel squeezes her hand. "You don't have to go with me," she whispers. "We just started dating and it's a lot to ask of you. I'd really prefer it if you'd go to Spring Break with your friends. We'll see each other when we both get back and I promise you I'll make this up to you."

"I'm going with you," Quinn says firmly. "We can go to Cancun next year."

\--

For the next 48 hours, Rachel goes on auto-pilot. There are logistical concerns-- Quinn still has one more final exam to sit and Audrey is so distraught, Rachel doesn't want her kid sister driving, so she drives two hours down to San Diego just to drive two and half hours back up to LA so they can all fly out from LA together.

She's tired of dealing with all of it, but Rachel prides herself on her ability to soldier through, so she does.

\--

Naturally, on the flight there, they can't all sit together. In fact, each of them sits separately, and though Rachel's gut instinct is to try to negotiate a seat next to her sister to make sure Audrey is okay, she tells herself that Audrey is only 11 months younger than she is, and should at least be able to sit by herself on a plane for a few hours.

And truthfully, Rachel is glad to be alone. She puts her headphones, turns on the music as loudly as it'll go without causing hearing loss and tries to drown out the sounds of the plane. She pretends to sleep so that people around her won't speak to her.

She's still pretending to sleep when she feels soft fingers press against her cheek. She knows that touch immediately, so she doesn't panic. Instead she opens her eyes slowly and sees Quinn peering worriedly down at her. Quinn holds a piece of paper out and Rachel takes it. Quinn squeezes her shoulder and then continues down the aisle toward the bathroom.

Rachel unfolds the note.

_R,_

_Please don't shut down on me._

_-Q._

Rachel's eyes fill with tears and she closes them again. She doesn't open them again until she has to exit the plane.

But when they exit, Rachel tentatively grabs for Quinn's hand and sighs in relief when Quinn's fingers intertwine with hers.

_'Home is wherever I am with you,'_ Rachel sings to herself.

Even when she's sad, she still thinks in song.


	2. Chapter 2

Her daddy picks them up from the airport and Rachel is tense the entire car ride because he's been pushing her to break up with Quinn for a while now. She was hoping that once her father gets to know Quinn, he would see Quinn for the wonderful, sweet, charming person that she actually is, but all of her parents had always been overprotective of her-- daddy, in particular. He found out about what Quinn said about her when they were first dating and Quinn has been black-balled in his eyes ever since.

Still, he's cordial to Quinn, and when Quinn addresses him as 'Mr. Berry,' he tells her 'call me John, please.' His tone is a little colder than Rachel would have liked, but she knows she can't push about it right now.

He drops them off at her mother's house and it's tense for a moment as they all pause before anyone gets out of the car. Rachel has an unpleasant flashback to all those times one or both of her fathers reluctantly dropped her and/or Audrey off at their mother's house. There was always so much weird tension between her mother and fathers, and the family law order that detailed the custody and visitation stipulations was far thicker than it should have been considering it was mostly composed of forms that one was supposed to check off.

"I'm sorry about your grandmother, girls," their daddy says softly. "Quinn, I am glad we had a chance to meet."

"It was nice to meet you, too, sir."

"Girls, your father and I already spoke to your mother and we understand you will be busy with her family, but we still expect you both to make some time for us, especially you Rachel. It's been too long since we've seen you and we’d like to get to know Quinn."

"Whatever," Audrey bites out, and it's clear that she's angry. "Mom needs us, it was _her_ mom that died, not yours! How can you be so selfish, daddy?"

"Watch your tone, young lady. Having your grandmother pass away is no reason to behave like some mannerless little--"

Rachel can hear in his voice that he's going to lose his temper. Their daddy is overall very easy-going but he seems to hate their mother, whereas their dad just seems largely exasperated by her.

'You're such an asshole sometimes, daddy,' Rachel thinks. She thinks it, but she doesn't say it because she's supposed to be the good one. She feels bad about it, because really, both her fathers are overall nice guys, and have always been good fathers to her. But when it comes to her mother, they're such _dicks_ , especially daddy, to the point she wonders what the _hell_ happened between the three of them.

She wants to castigate her father for being so heartless and yell at her sister for being so disrespectful, but she knows it's her job to keep the peace.

"Daddy," Rachel cuts in, and she sounds resigned to her own ears. She instantly feels Quinn's hand clutch hers. "Audrey's tired--it was a long flight and it's been very emotional these past few days. I hope you'll understand and be patient with the occasional outburst. And _of course_ we'll _both_ make time for you and dad. It just won't be as much as any of us would want."

He relaxes a bit. "All right," he says softly. "Just don't let your mother monopolize all of your time, and don't let her manipulate you into neglecting us. We're your parents, too."

"I know, daddy," Rachel says. "And we're sorry for giving you attitude."

"It's all right, sweetheart. I understand."

Rachel gives him a wan smile and she gets out of the car. Her daddy rolls down his window and she gives him a kiss. They unload their luggage out of the trunk and he drives away.

"You're such a kissass," Audrey huffs. "You know you wanted to tell him to fuck off. And you don't speak for me! If mom needs me here, I'm going to _be_ here. Grandma D _died_ and they're still turning it into a competition like when we're kids and _you_ make them think it's okay. Half the reason it's this shitty now is because you were always the one that swept things under the carpet so we could never just deal with it! Everyone but you tries to deal with it, and you're always the one fucking it up! And I'm tired of you always trying to speak for me! You don't! Fuck you!"

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, but her sister is already stomping up the driveway toward the house.

"Sorry." Rachel tells Quinn softly, heaving a resigned sigh. "It's going to be like _that_ all week."

"It's okay, really," Quinn says. "It's better than what we used to have in my house where everyone kept everything inside and no one talked about anything."

Rachel smiles wryly. "No, the only one who does that here is me," she jokes.

"That's sad," Quinn says quietly, without thinking about what she's saying.

Rachel chuckles. "I was kidding."

Quinn just looks at her, and Rachel knows they both know she wasn't kidding.

Rachel just wants to keep the peace. The truth is-- she thinks her family is a total loss when it comes to everyone loving each other. For longer than she cares to admit, she really wanted her mother to love her fathers and for her fathers to love her mother. Now all she wants is for them to not fight with each other and she'll always do her best to keep peace between her three parents.

\--

Her mom is clearly distraught when they get inside the house, but she's still pretty composed. Rachel knew she would be-- she doesn't know what she'd do if she ever saw her mother truly fall apart. The closest Rachel ever saw her mother come to that was when Audrey had meningitis when Rachel was a senior in high school and had to be hospitalized. But her mom still kept it together for her sake.

Her mom shakes Quinn's hand, but doesn't ask Quinn many questions about herself which is both a good and bad thing. In any ordinary circumstance, her mother would be grilling Quinn about what her future plans are and about her family. But these are not ordinary circumstances.

This is not how Rachel wants her parents and Quinn to meet, but it's beyond her control.

\--

Audrey and their mom are extremely close, to the point of her exclusion, so Rachel has no qualms about leaving her mom and her sister together in the living room and taking Quinn by the hand and high-tailing it to her room.

Her mom bought the house when she was eight after years of scrimping and saving so that she and Audrey could each have their own rooms. Looking back on it, Rachel thinks the purchase was more motivated by competition, because she and Audrey had their own rooms at their fathers' house.

Even as a child, Rachel knew it was unfair for her mother and fathers to compete with one another-- her mother was one, and her fathers were two. Her fathers were ten and fifteen years older than her mother and had more time to establish their careers, so of course, they were wealthier and had more expendable income. She didn't care if she had to share a room with Audrey at her mother's house-- she only had one full week and two weekends at her mom's house, so she didn't care about having her own room. Their dads got Audrey for one full week and two weekends at their house as well, but they each had their own rooms there, so what did it matter? Still her mom looked so triumphant with the purchase.

Now, she's really glad she has her own room because she knows both her sister and their mother will leave her alone.

Rachel gets into the bed immediately. She hasn't been in this room since she left for college, and it's kind of nice to be back. It's exactly the way she left it, except her mother has clearly dusted and vacuumed regularly. The sheets and comforter are also newly washed and she inhales the scent of fresh, clean sheets. Her mother has dug out her old baby blanket (practically disintegrating) which Rachel kept around for longer than she cares to admit. In the vernacular of the psychology class she took to fulfill a general education requirement, it is her 'transitional object.' Rachel clutches it close to her chest as she watches Quinn look around the room to orient herself.

"Is that your old baby blanket?" Quinn asks, gesturing to the tatty blue blanket clutched to Rachel's chest.

"Yeah," Rachel says softly.

Quinn laughs gently. "Like Linus," she comments. "You know, from _Peanuts_."

Rachel grins. The assessment is not that far off.

"This room is very you," Quinn declares quietly, spinning around the room one last time to get a final look before getting on the bed and spooning Rachel.

Rachel often takes big-spoon duty for the sake of parity, but she loves it best when she's the little spoon to Quinn's big spoon.

Rachel sighs when Quinn's arms wrap around her, and Rachel sings to herself, _'home is when I'm alone with you.'_ She loves this song because while her other friends find the song and the band weird, Quinn _loves_ both.

"My mom let me decorate it the way I wanted."

Quinn kisses the back of her neck. "Are you okay?"

Rachel's not sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, yes, she is. She accepts death as a part of life in an abstract way. On the other hand, she's lost her favorite member of her family.

She's sad about her grandmother-- even more than she thought herself capable, but she's also having a hard time being _here_ in Lima with her family.

"I don't know," Rachel answers. "I suppose. Yes," she decides. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking," she says politely. "But really, you don't have to worry. Thank you very much for coming to be supportive."

Quinn's grip on her tightens. "Don't shut down, come on, talk to me," she pleads.

"I _am_ talking to you. It's just…it's…awkward being here. I need some time to adjust being back here and around my family. It's been a while since I've been around them like this."

"Your parents seem nice," Quinn counters quietly.

"You haven't met my dad yet. You should save your judgments."

Although Quinn's already met daddy, and daddy is the hard ass. Her dad is the softie.

Rachel loves her fathers, but they're vocal about their expectations of her, and they're critical to the point it can render her to tears. Sometimes, their words just kill her.

"I can handle him," Quinn assures.

"Please don't judge me based on my family," Rachel pleads.

She's accustomed to people making judgments of her family and though she does not believe Quinn would do that to her, Rachel has this instinct to beg Quinn to withhold judgment because she has a knee-jerk need to hold on even when Quinn isn't slipping away.

Quinn snorts. "Please. My family is worse than yours. If anything, I'm going to have to ask you not to judge me by my family."

Rachel laughs softly. "I really like your mom, and I can't wait to meet your sister." She smiles at Quinn, but quickly becomes somber again. She loves her family-- desperately, actually. If something ever happened to one of her parents or her sister, she's not sure that's something she'd ever recover from. But her family's been fractured since before she was even born and nothing she's ever tried to bring them together to be even halfway cohesive has worked. She just wants her mother and her fathers to get along-- they pretty much agree on everything anyway, so she doesn't understand the unnecessary harshness they rebuke each other with. The world has always been just a little bewildering in its cruelty. She's never understood why people have to be mean to one another. It confused her when she was little and it confuses her even now.

"I don't like being here," Rachel confesses. "I love my family, but we're happiest when we're away from each other."

Quinn laughs softly and presses a kiss to Rachel's shoulder. "Believe me when I tell you that I can understand that."

Rachel laughs and her grip on Quinn's hands tightens. "You're in for a week of dysfunction," she says ruefully.

Quinn smiles. "I can handle it."

\--

They fall asleep because the next thing Rachel is aware of is her sister pounding on her bedroom door.

"Mom says to come out and eat something!"

Rachel groans and presses her face into her pillow. She grabs her cell phone placed next to her on the pillow to check for the time. She and Quinn napped for two hours.

"Yes, Aud" Rachel calls out to her waiting sister. "We'll be right out."

Quinn is already awake, and yawning. She's still lying down, but she stretches her limbs, like a cat and releases a little groan. "This bed is not comfortable."

Rachel agrees because her back is stiff and she is dying to ask Quinn for a massage, but she refrains, because experience proves that will lead somewhere unintended, though not unpleasant.

Rachel sits up and takes a deep breath before she gets to her feet and stretches. She holds her hand out to Quinn who takes it with a smile.

Quinn gently teases Rachel about The Wiggles poster on her wall and Rachel is laughing as they walk into the living room.

Rachel stops laughing immediately when she sees her mom, because she knows her laughter isn't exactly appreciated right now.

"Hi, Mom," Rachel greets quietly.

\--

What is it about death, Rachel wonders, that makes people want to cook a casserole, cover it in tinfoil and shove it into the hands of the bereaved? Or for that matter to buy large quantities of food from Costco or order some edible fruit-and-chocolate arrangement for someone grieving, as if they'd care about potato salad in bulk or how pretty strawberries and pineapples look when dipped in chocolate and arranged to look like a bouquet of shit-colored flowers?

Rachel is silent as she guides Quinn to the kitchen. Gently, she pushes Quinn into a chair at the table.

There's a routine that she slips into easily with her sister and their mother.

Her mother serves up food that friends, coworkers and neighbors have brought over. Audrey sets the table. Rachel fills glasses with water and once she sets them on the table, trails after her mother and re-covers trays of casseroles and salads, re-lids containers of potato salad and puts things away into the refrigerator.

\--

When they sit down, her mom focuses her attention on Rachel, since it's been a while since they've seen each other in person

"Have you gained weight?" Shelby asks absently, furrowing her brows.

Rachel flushes. "A little," she admits.

"Be sure to wear a sweater when you visit with your fathers this week. You know how they can be."

Rachel inwardly grouses. It's not uncommon for her fathers to pinch her hips to check for extra fat. If they think there's too much of it, she gets the 'I think you're beautiful, angel, but it's always easier to gain weight than lose weight for a role and you want to be versatile, don't you?' lecture. She hates that lecture. She deliberately wore clothes that would hide her body for when her daddy picked them up from the airport for that reason. She knows her parents are well-meaning, but she's had an inferiority complex about her appearance for a long time that she only recently started to get over, and coming back to Lima where she was mocked so much about her appearance is making all those old issues resurge.

"Yes, okay. Sure."

Shelby shakes her head. "I'm sure your eating habits are terrible," she says with a sigh. "My eating habits were terrible when I was in college. I hope you aren't subsisting on Top Ramen and Cup-of-Noodles-- they both have so much sodium. Are you even eating regularly?"

"My eating habits are fine, mom. Really. Very balanced. And yes, I'm very good about keeping a regular meal schedule."

"You never ask for money," Shelby says, squinting at her. "Are you sure you're eating enough?"

"Mom, you just told me I was fat and now you're asking me if I'm eating enough?"

" _I_ would never call you fat, Rachel. I was just telling you to be prepared for your fathers' scrutiny. You know how they are. I would never be as critical of you as your fathers are."

Rachel clenches her jaw because it's already started-- the thing where her parents pit her against one another. Audrey had a point earlier-- she really does indulge this more than she should. But Rachel can't blame her mother because if she were at her fathers' house right now, they would be just as bad. "I appreciate that, mom, really."

Her mom means well, it's just that she's always been so defensive when it came to her fathers. Rachel understands the instinct-- her daddy especially tends to push her mother's buttons, so her mother now just comes out swinging, no matter what.

"I'll talk to them," her mother says.

Rachel winces. "Please don't do that, mom. They're just looking out for my best interests."

"Well, I look out for your best interests, too. And I do it without being denigrating."

Rachel sinks lower into her chair and pushes her food around. She didn't have much of an appetite before, but it's completely gone now.

"You do, mom," Rachel says finally. "And I appreciate that. But I can handle dad and daddy myself."

Shelby gives Rachel a small smile. "All right, honey." She turns her attention to Audrey. "I know your sister can cook, but you--"

"There's no kitchen in the dorm, mom," Audrey cuts in. "Stop nagging."

"I was going to ask you about your meal plan," Shelby says dryly. "Are you taking advantage of it?"

"It's fine, mom," Audrey says impatiently. "You paid for the unlimited plan. I'm totally fine with food."

"Well, remember your sister's first year, she was living off-campus and--"

"I'm not Rachel, mom. _I'm_ not going to faint in class one day because I forgot to eat."

Quinn looks at Rachel in alarm. "What? When did that happen?"

Rachel winces at the concern and anxiety on Quinn's face. She glares resentfully at her sister for bringing that up. The memory of that incident embarrasses her more than anything else.

"It was nothing," Rachel assures. "It was last year-- we didn't even know each other yet. It was during the fall quarter. I was just really busy and you know, I kind of forgot to eat and I passed out in one of my classes. And it wasn't at all dramatic like something out of _Gone with the Wind_ because I would have appreciated the drama in that. I was sitting in class and everyone thought I fell asleep at first."

That was partially the truth anyway. When she first moved to LA, everyone she saw was just so beautiful and thin-- it was so cliché. Even other college girls just looked so beautiful and Rachel felt so self-conscious being this Midwestern girl in this huge city. And suddenly, it made sense to her why her fathers nagged her about keeping to a strict diet and exercise regime-- things she would have done anyway, but kind of resented when her fathers nagged her about it.

She felt awkward, fat and unattractive and she couldn't look in the mirror without making a litany of things coming to mind that she wanted to change about herself. Her parents would have killed her at the mere suggestion of plastic surgery-- she once brought up the possibility of getting a nose job a few years ago when she was sixteen and all three of her parents flipped out.

But she thought she could control how thin she was, and so she dramatically reduced her caloric intake and dramatically increased her exercise routine. It came to its inevitable conclusion. She told her parents she just forgot to eat because she knew her fathers would feel really guilty and she didn't want to do that to them. If her mother knew the truth, she would flip out and start a fight with her fathers and Rachel wanted things to be peaceful. She just felt so stupid for allowing herself to get caught up in such a clusterfuck of body image issues.

Quinn bites her lip. "That doesn't sound like nothing," she counters.

Rachel frowns, irritated. "It was nothing," she says firmly, her voice more harsh than she intends. She can see the way Quinn instinctually recoils.

"Okay," Quinn says softly. "Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Rachel swallows hard at the wounded expression on Quinn's face and feels regret stab through her. As a matter of principle, she tries to be as even-keeled and gentle with people as possible-- with Quinn in particular. But when she comes home to Lima, she feels so on edge, she ends up snapping at people who don't deserve it.

"No" Rachel says quietly. "I'm sorry. It's just that it wasn't a big deal. It was more embarrassing than anything else." She pats Quinn on the leg.

Quinn smiles at her. "Okay."

Rachel bites her lip when she turns her attention back to her mother and sister and sees her mother looking at Quinn intently.

"Quinn, Rachel says you're from Texas?"

Quinn nods. "Yes, Austin."

"What do your parents do?"

" _Mom_ ," Rachel interjects.

"My mother is a real estate agent," Quinn informs. "I haven't seen my father in a few years, but he was a banker. I'm sure he still is."

"Do you get to go home very often?"

"Uh, just on the usual breaks. I try to go home when I can."

"Mom," Rachel says, annoyed. "Please stop interrogating Quinn. She came here to be supportive, not to be questioned."

"It's okay, Rach," Quinn tells her softly.

"I'm just trying to get to know your girlfriend, Rachel. It's been a long time since you brought someone home."

Rachel winces at the description of Quinn as her 'girlfriend.' She wants the term to be applicable, but she's not sure how _Quinn_ would feel about it-- they've agreed to take things slowly, after all. And more importantly, she doesn't want her mother to interrogate Quinn and take some small thing and turn it into some major flaw. Her mother, like her fathers, is incredibly critical and Rachel wants to protect Quinn from her parents' scrutiny. All of her parents are loving, but over the years, they've each chipped away at her self-worth in misguided attempts to help her. She doesn't want _any_ of her parents to say anything critical about Quinn, because she knows she's susceptible to her parents-- their opinions mean so much to her and she just doesn't want to give them the power to make her see Quinn differently.

"I just think we should talk about what we want to do for grandma," Rachel says quietly.

Grief etches across her mother's face and Rachel immediately reaches across the table to take her mother's hand, feeling awful for causing her mother pain just so she could divert the scrutiny away from Quinn.

"I'm sorry, mom," Rachel says. "I know you've been focused on little else…wh-what can I do to help?" she asked. "What kind of arrangements should we make?"

Shelby cups Rachel's cheek and smiles warmly. "It's all right, baby. I'll take care of everything. Don't worry about anything. I'm just happy to have you home."

Rachel's eyes lower. "It's not the best reason to come home," she says softly. "I'm sorry I don't come home more."

"You have school and a career," Shelby murmurs. "I'm very proud of you for that, you know. Your grandmother was, too. She was always talking about you to her friends. She even learned how to use a computer so she could show her friends your MySpace page and the videos people posted on YouTube from your shows."

Rachel laughs quietly because her grandmother was terrified of even the most innocuous forms of technology. "Grandma did that? Grandma was afraid of the _escalator_."

Although Rachel could not exactly call escalators 'innocuous' because she believed they were potential killers.

Audrey laughs. "It was the only time she'd get mad-- when we'd try to get her to go on one."

Rachel turns to Audrey and smiles. "You were always trying to get her on them, you should have just let it go."

Audrey smiles cockily. "I think people should face their fears."

Shelby strokes Rachel's hair. "You would always offer to hold her hand down the escalator," she murmurs. "She always thought that meant you should go into a profession like medicine because you always wanted to help people. She thought you were going to be a doctor, remember?"

Rachel laughs. "If only she could recall my aversion to blood," she says wryly. "I held her hand on the escalator because grandma was such a scaredy cat about it."

Shelby curls a lock of Rachel's hair around her finger. "It would be nice if you came home more," she murmurs. "I think we would all like that."

Uncomfortable, Rachel pulls away. Her mother has always been more physically affectionate with Audrey than with her, so her mother being so physical is a little unsettling. She can count the number of times she and her mother hugged during the last year she lived at home. "I'll try," she whispers softly.

They finish up dinner making idle chit-chat. Rachel tries to redirect the focus to her sister, but their mother repeatedly asks her questions and Rachel just wishes the focus could be on Audrey-- everyone is always less critical of her little sister.

She offers to do the dishes even though she really doesn't want to, but her mother shoos her away. Rachel glares at Audrey expectantly, silently urging her little sister to pick up the slack because their mom really doesn't need _this_ on top of everything else, but Audrey says nothing.

She ends up doing the dishes anyway and when she gets back into her room, Quinn is browsing through her high school yearbook.

"Sorry," Quinn apologizes, "I just saw it on that shelf and--"

"It's okay," Rachel cuts off gently. "Please, you're always welcome, anywhere I am. You should treat this, at least my room, like it's your own home."

Quinn smiles at her and lovingly strokes the pages of the yearbook. "You're everywhere in this thing. Class valedictorian, National Merit Scholar, two senior plays, you were in all the clubs, the glee club captain…four National titles for glee…and you didn't tell me you ran varsity track and also lettered in soccer and tennis. You made me think you were some theatre geek and here you are, you were a jock. What else have you been hiding from me?" Quinn teases.

Rachel smiles. "You don't need to recite my curriculum vitae to me, baby. The sports were just for variety on my applications and for the sake of fitness."

Quinn laughs softly. "Are you sure you weren't secretly popular?" She gestures toward the yearbook with her chin. "Because, seriously. You're _all_ over this thing, even in the candid shots."

"The yearbook editor had a strange fixation on me," Rachel murmurs. "Andrew Jackson Kuo."

Quinn wrinkles her brow. "Andrew _Jackson_ Kuo?"

Rachel shrugs. "You got me," she says. She has no idea what his parents were thinking. "He was this pervert that carried a video camera everywhere. He used to try to buy my underwear from me."

"There's always one in every school. At my school it was Jacob Ben Israel. We called him Jewfro. "

Rachel laughed. "We called Andrew Jackosn Kuo 'Fro-han"

Quinn blinked. "Why?"

"He had curly hair that kind of looked like a fro. And everyone said he looked more like a John, and John in German is Johan, and so--"

"Fro-han. Got it."

Rachel laughs. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about my mom…"

"Your mom was fine," Quinn says. "I thought it was kind of normal mom stuff."

Rachel shrugs.

"I thought you went a little overboard with her," Quinn says tentatively. "I mean, my mom asked you questions just like that and you didn't call it an interrogation."

"I think my mom had different motivations asking those questions though."

Quinn makes a face, clearly irritated. "You mean other than just getting to know me? Because no one in your family could possibly want to do that, right?"

Rachel bites her lip. “My parents can be very critical,” she explains. “I just didn’t want that scrutiny to be foisted onto you. Of _course_ my parents want to get to know you-- I’m as honest as I can be with them about how I feel about you and my intentions with you. But I feel like there’s going to be enough time later for you and my parents to become acquainted. For now, I just…want to keep you for myself.”

And it's true-- they're both so far from home when they're in school. They're both legal adults and things between them have been mostly in this perfect little bubble. She just wants it to stay the two of them for a little longer, before parents and the rest of the world can make their opinions about their relationship known. She just wants the bliss to last a little longer.

Quinn softens. “Oh,” she murmurs. “Well, I can still handle it. It wasn’t such a big deal.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Rachel says. “I just get so defensive around my family. Everything becomes subject to criticism.”

“I know how that is,” Quinn admits. “I’m sorry for overreacting. I just don’t like the idea of you being embarrassed or ashamed of me.”

“I would never be embarrassed or ashamed of you,” Rachel says sincerely. “I’m really proud to say I’m dating you. I’m not certain how I tricked you into it--undoubtedly it involved some type of malfeasance that I was previously unaware I could be capable of, but I’m very proud to be with you.”

Quinn nuzzles Rachel’s cheek. “Where did you learn to be so charming? Did you take a class?”

Rachel giggles at the feel of Quinn's nose tickling her cheek. “You’re really one of the few people who has ever found me ‘charming,’” Rachel tells her. “Here in Lima, most people found me…overbearing. I think that's the most accurate way to describe it while still allowing me to save some face.”

Quinn’s jaw tightens. “Well, people from our hometowns can be wrong about us.”

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Rachel says quietly, struck with sudden wave of emotion that makes her voice tremble ever so slightly. “Thank you so much for coming. You really have no idea how good it feels to have you here, especially considering you could be on the beach with your friends right now.”

“They’re your friends, too,” Quinn murmurs. “Santana and Brittany really like you. They might even like you more than they like me.”

“Well, I could fathom that,” Rachel jokes with a slow grin.

Quinn swats at Rachel’s shoulder. “Shut it, Berry.”

“Make me, Fabray.”

Quinn grins and plants a chaste kiss to Rachel’s lips.

Rachel grins and licks her lower lip. “That was very effective. I liked it a great deal.”

Quinn’s cheeks turn pink. “Hey,” she murmurs.

Rachel laughs softly, charmed. “Hey, what?” she questions gently.

Quinn’s blush deepens. “I…I think it’s really cool your mom is letting us share the room, but I…I don’t really feel comfortable…you know…doing anything here.”

Rachel smiles. “Neither do I,” she assures. “I feel like it would be disrespectful. And I told my mom we would be respectful while we were here. She was understandably a little leery after… well, after Jesse.”

Quinn makes a face at the mention of Rachel’s ex-boyfriend. “Is he coming back, too?”

Rachel shakes her head. “My grandmother liked him a lot, but my parents hate him. My mom especially because he was one of her favorite students."

“Well, you can’t really blame her,” Quinn points out.

Rachel shrugs. She knows this is true, but it’s been a long time since Jesse got her pregnant when she was a high school senior. She doesn’t love Jesse as intensely as she once did, but she does still love him and she wishes her parents' attitudes toward him would soften-- because he is important to her regardless of the fact they broke up. She just wants everyone in her life to like one another, no matter how unattainable that is.

“Hey,” Quinn murmurs. “Why don’t you give me a tour of this town?”

Rachel smiles crookedly. She hates this town--she never quite felt like she fit here. “There’s not much to see.”

Quinn runs her hand through Rachel’s hair. “Show me anyway,” she murmurs.

Rachel swallows hard. “Okay. In a couple days, okay?”

Quinn smiles. “Okay.”

\--

The next day is mainly devoted to her mother’s side of the family, and Rachel is a little uncomfortable with all the attention they give her, but it’s been a while since she’s seen them, so she gets it.

Her mother's side of the family is Jewish, and tradition dictates her grandmother be buried quickly, so the funeral is the day after that. They aren't so traditional that they sit shiva, but they put her in the ground as soon as possible.

Rachel tries her hardest to compose herself, but she can’t help it-- she cries through the service. It really hits her that her grandmother is gone. She’s seated between Quinn and her mother and they each grab one of her hands. Rachel looks to her left and sees that her mother is also holding her sister’s hand which makes Rachel cry even more.

She does her best not to be sloppy with her crying and Quinn puts her arm around Rachel and pulls her close and kisses Rachel’s neck.

“It’s okay, baby,” Quinn whispers. “Just cry, okay? It’s okay.”

Rachel swallows hard and grips Quinn’s hand a little too fiercely.

\--

Rachel feels better the next day. She and Quinn could always leave and meet Santana and Brittany in Cancun, but Rachel doesn’t want to leave her mother and sister quite yet, and she hasn’t visited with her fathers either.

\--

There’s not a lot in Lima, but Rachel shows Quinn around anyway.

She borrows her mother’s car and starts her tour chronologically--the apartment her mother was living in during her two pregnancies before ending the tour at William McKinley High School, with diversions at various dance studios, parks and other memorable places from her childhood.

McKinley High is out for Spring Break, so Rachel gives Quinn a tour around the school.

Quinn looks around. “Does every high school in the country look exactly the same or is it just me?”

Rachel chuckles. “High school isn’t known for allowing creativity to flourish, so why would its infrastructure have any creativity?”

Quinn laughs. “Yeah.”

Rachel reaches for Quinn’s hand as she points out the buildings she had classes in, the building that houses the choir room, the auditorium and various points around the school she can remember being Slushied.

“But I basically got Slushied everywhere on campus,” Rachel says dryly.

“That sucks,” Quinn says, her voice wavering. She blinks back tears.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks, concerned. She stops walking and pulls Quinn to a halt.

Quinn blinks rapidly. "I just don't like the idea of you having such a hard time," she says softly.

Rachel smiles, touched by Quinn's concern. She stands on tiptoe and rubs her nose into Quinn's cheek. "I really love you," she murmurs sincerely.

"I really love you, too," Quinn says, shifting a little because she's clearly embarrassed by this display of emotion.

"Come on," Rachel murmurs. "I think I can still break into the choir room."

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Break into?"

"I'm quite adept with a nail file and a bobby pin. A screwdriver, too, incidentally. But I don't carry that in my purse."

Quinn grins. "I'm pretty good with a nail file, too."

Rachel smiles back and reaches for Quinn's hand, lifting it to her face to inspect Quinn's nails. "I can tell," she murmurs, bringing Quinn's hand to her lips and kissing Quinn's fingers. "You always have a perfect manicure."

Quinn blushes. "Do you think I'm shallow for always focusing on that kind of stuff?"

Rachel smiles. "No, baby. I don't," she says sincerely. "I love it when you give me manicures and pedicures. It feels good, and if it feels good for you and makes you happy, you should do it."

"What if I stopped though," Quinn persists. "I mean, what if I stopped getting manicures and pedicures, stopped getting waxed, stopped getting facials and wearing makeup…"

Rachel considers it. "Well, I suppose you would see a savings in your bank account. I know it's a significant expense for me, so I will assume it’s a significant expense for you as well, even if you don't really need it."

"But what would _you_ do?"

"Make you buy me presents with the money you save?"

Quinn chuckles. "I buy you presents _now_."

"Yes, but I'd expect something a little more ostentatious. Like higher quality chocolates. Or the special issues of _Entertainment Weekly_ instead of just the regular issues." Rachel brightens. "Or box sets of DVDs of my favorite actors. Yes, I would absolutely demand you buy me presents with the savings."

Quinn laughs, but sobers almost immediately. "But would you stop dating me?"

"What?" Rachel asked, perplexed.

"You know all that stuff makes me look…prettier," Quinn says. "If I stopped….would you stop wanting to date me?"

"Quinn," Rachel murmurs. "You're beautiful and frankly, you're beautiful in a way that is very natural. I can't imagine that you would need a great deal of enhancing. I just want you to be happy and if you're doing all that for me, you don’t have to. My favorite version of you is when I get to wake up in the morning with you, au natural, so to speak. I love you and you are, of course, very beautiful which is, of course, a perk." Rachel grins impishly. "A much-enjoyed perk," she adds, stepping away when Quinn swats at her belly. "I won't mislead you-- I've been attracted to you from the moment I cast my eyes on you. But I fell in love with you because you are so much more than a beautiful face. You could develop elephantitis of all of your limbs-- though, God, what a horrible thought. Or develop a condition which renders you very malodorous. We could become allergic to one another. You could come down with flesh-eating virus or--"

"Why are you coming up with all these horrible scenarios that could happen to me?" Quinn asks, shuddering. "Don't _jinx_ me. I'm so blaming you if I come down with flesh-eating virus or leprosy. I'll be sure to infect you, too."

Rachel blushes. "Sorry," she apologizes. "Although if you did, we could be lepers together, and therefore still be romantically involved. Right?" she asks with an impish grin which broadens when Quinn rolls her eyes and gives her a fond, wry look. "My point is, your appearance makes you attractive and desirable-- let's not delude ourselves. But everything else about you makes you loveable. You are more than a pretty face."

Quinn gives Rachel a tremulous smile. "I bet you're tired of telling me that over and over again, huh?"

"No," Rachel says honestly.

It's a subject that's come up time and time again. And Rachel is honest and knows if this is still an issue that would still come up years from now, then yes, maybe she would grow weary of it. But for now, Quinn's obvious insecurities just serve to endear her to Rachel even more. Because _God_ , if she looked the way Quinn did, Rachel is certain she would feel on top of the world rather than having daily contemplations of rhinoplasty.

"Really?" Quinn asks skeptically.

"Really," Rachel assures.

There's a bright future ahead for them and right now, Rachel can't ever imagine being weary of proving that to Quinn.

\--

Rachel breaks into Building J and then breaks into the choir room with a triumphant grin and a victorious air punch. She turns to Quinn for approval, the self-satisfied grin on her face threatening to split her face. Quinn rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she has an affectionate smile on her face. Rachel takes Quinn's hand as they walks inside.

The choir room hasn't changed at all, although there are more trophies in the case since she graduated.

"This was the one of the few places on campus where I actually enjoyed being," Rachel murmurs. She walks to the piano and touches a few keys before sitting down on the bench.

Quinn sits down next to her and gazes at Rachel for a long moment as Rachel begins to play a few experimental chords. It's quiet while Quinn stares down at Rachel's hands as an unfamiliar melody begins to fill the room.

"That's pretty, is it one of yours?" Quinn asks softly.

"Something I'm working on for my Spring recital," Rachel confirms. The Spring quarter hasn't even started yet-- they're still on Spring Break, for God's sake. But she likes to be prepared.

It's not always easy being a double major in Theatre and Music Performance-- she can be stretched pretty thin, but Rachel knows she's incredibly blessed to be able to study what she loves.

"I love it," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel grins at her. "Thanks. I'm still working it out though."

The truth is, she hasn't been going to the practice rooms on campus as much as she should because she'd rather spend time with Quinn

"I used to take piano lessons, you know," Quinn says.

"You did?" Rachel asks with a grin. "For how long?"

"Four years. From the time I was eight to when my dad left." Quinn pauses. "I liked it a lot, but with my dad gone, lessons were really hard to afford for my mom. She tried to make me keep doing it, but I could tell she could use the money she was spending on my lessons. Plus, after my dad left, my sister moved back home and it took her a while to find a job, so my mom had another mouth to feed. So I quit, but I always wished I didn't have to."

A lump clenches Rachel's throat and she feels herself burn with hatred for this man she's never met. She's patient with Quinn's insecurities, because she has the same insecurities, but Rachel _hates_ Quinn's father for instilling them in her.

Music was Rachel's life growing up-- it was her escape from _everything_ bad. Her family has been through its own share of money woes-- each of her parents' respective battles with cancer made finances very tight, but her parents always managed to scrounge together enough money to make sure she kept up with her lessons. Looking back on it, Rachel feels a pang of guilt because she's not sure she could have been as selfless as Quinn and given up her music lessons-- and she had so many of them from the usual piano, voice and guitar to the violin and clarinet. She even took drumming lessons for a while, though it wasn't a good match for her.

"I'll give you lessons," Rachel whispers. "And you're already a wonderful singer. Maybe you can join me on a few of my shows. If you enjoy it, perhaps we can form a duo."

Quinn smiles crookedly. "Thanks, but I don't think I could."

"Well, think about it," Rachel offers.

Quinn doesn't respond but plays a few notes on the piano and lets out a soft sigh. "Could I hang out some time when you go to a practice room?"

"Of course," Rachel says with a smile.

"We have a piano in my mom's house," Quinn says. "I tinker with it sometimes when I go home. But I think it makes my mom sad. You know, to be reminded."

"Do you remember much? From your lessons, I mean."

Quinn smiles. "Well, I can still play Fur Elise. Like anyone else who has ever taken piano lessons. But only because I played it so much, you know?" she asks, playing the opening notes to demonstrate.

Rachel laughs. "That is a staple," she agrees. "What else?"

"Chopsticks."

Rachel smiles. "That _is_ a duet, you know."

Quinn smiles back. "I know."

"Shall we?"

Quinn chuckles. "Okay, but take it easy on me. It's been a while."

They launch into 'Chopsticks' with Rachel taking the lower part. Rachel turns to look at Quinn a few times while they play, but Quinn stares down at the piano as she plays with _the_ most adorable look of concentration. It's a little slower than it should be, but Rachel adjusts to Quinn.

They manage to get through the song without any mistakes on the first try.

Once they finish, they break off into giggles and Rachel throws her arms around Quinn and presses her cheek to Quinn's.

"Let's run through it again," Rachel suggests. "Only let's switch this time."

"Okay."

Quinn makes a couple mistakes this time around, but they power through. Once they're done, Quinn laughs.

"That was fun."

"Yes," Rachel agrees.

Quinn looks at the drums. "I'm going to play those," she said, pointing.

Rachel grins. "Go ahead."

Rachel watches as Quinn spends the next ten minutes banging on the drums without any real rhythm, occasionally whooping in laughter. Rachel giggles as she watches Quinn try, but fail, to spin the sticks like a real drummer, her heart crowded with affection.


	3. Chapter 3

Once they're finished playing the various instruments in the room, they sit down on the floor on a blanket Rachel finds on one of the shelves.

"So, if you liked this room this much, you must have had a reason," Quinn teases. "Did you have a crush on your teacher?"

Rachel chuckles. "Mr. Schuester? No. I thought he was attractive and he has really pretty eyes, but he dated my mom when I was eight. They broke up after he and his wife got back together because she was pregnant. Then they dated again when I was sixteen. They broke up again, but they stayed friends. I kind of grew up with him around. But I…" Rachel trails off, as she shakes herself out of an unpleasant thought. "Never mind, it's nothing. Suffice it to say that while Mr. Schuester is extremely attractive, I never had those types of feelings for him."

"What is it?" Quinn presses. "What were you going to say?"

Rachel bites her lower lip. Rachel used to like Mr. Schuester a lot until her senior year. She'd come home from a date with Jesse, trying to suck in every last minute of his visit home from LA. It was her mother's week with her, and she stopped in the living room to check the mail pile only to come across Mr. Schuester locked in a very intimate embrace with her little sister.

He'd always been the kind of teacher who was overly involved in the lives of his students and wanted to be liked a little too much. But Rachel could understand that because she also wanted to be liked a little too much, and had a tendency to try too hard. But this was different-- this was Mr. Schue, alone, with her baby sister, touching her. Even for a hug, their bodies were too close. And Mr. Schuester was stroking Audrey's hair. The sight gave her goosebumps.

"Hi, Mr. Schue. Aud," she greeted.

They jumped apart like they were doing something wrong rather than the languid separation Rachel had seen her fathers do when she came across them mid-hug or mid-kiss. She gave Mr. Schuester a hard stare, grabbed her sister by the hand and took her upstairs, leaving Mr. Schuester to wait for their mother to get home.

She knew she was being paranoid but Audrey is her little sister and Mr. Schuester was her young(ish), hunky teacher with frankly ephebophilic tendencies. Audrey outright laughed at her, but Rachel could never trust him after that, and soon her distrust morphed into vague dislike.

"Jesse was visiting one weekend from college," Rachel explains quietly. "I was out on a date with him and I came home and found Mr. Schuester and my sister-- they weren't doing anything," she adds hastily when she sees Quinn's eyes get big. "I mean, nothing that I would qualify as wrong. Mr. Schue was dating my mom again by then and he was just over at the house waiting for my mom to get home. But he was hugging Audrey and I…I didn't really like it. I never saw him the same way after that. I was probably overreacting, but…" Rachel shrugs.

She's always been hypervigilant when it comes to Audrey. Audrey is taller, more outspoken and tougher. But she's still younger and Rachel has always felt the need to be protective. Because all three of their parents had cancer at some point, she's had to pick up a lot of the slack when it came to cleaning the house, helping her sister with homework, doing laundry or making meals. She's periodically been more of a parent than sister to Audrey, so her instincts have always been to be protective in a way that is almost maternal and certainly belies the very small age difference between them.

Her sister infuriates her sometimes, but Audrey is genuinely the most important person in her life. She doesn't have much to compare to, but she knows she and Audrey are closer than other sisters, probably because she's played the role of another parent to Audrey for significant portions of their lives.

"You're such a good sister," Quinn says quietly.

Rachel snorts. "Whatever," she murmurs. She averts her eyes, feeling uncomfortable. "I think Mr. Schuester keeps a checkers board around here. We got snowed in once. I'm going to look for it." She gets up and looks around the shelves and finds what she's looking for--a battered checkers set.

She brings it back and sets up the game board between them.

She loses three games in a row until she grabs the board and lifts it in one swift motion, tossing the game pieces in the air.

Quinn chuckles fondly. "Sore loser."

"Cheater," Rachel huffs, crossing her arms and sulking.

Quinn laughs. "You're a terrible player. Do you even know how to play? Or were you just moving game pieces around?"

Rachel smiles sheepishly. "I have a basic understanding of the game, but I'm not very good at it."

"Well, I'm great at it. I used to play with my mom, and she'd never let me win. She said it was good for me to earn victories."

Rachel smiles. "I mostly played with Audrey or against my stuffed monkey."

Quinn grins. "How cute," she says. "I can see you setting up the board and sitting on one side and making Mr. Monkey sit on the other."

Rachel lowers her head in embarrassment and grins crookedly. "Yes, and Mr. Monkey was set in a pose of deep contemplation. I'm sure if he were real, he would have been very contemplative. A real philosopher."

Quinn rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. "Baby, if Mr. Monkey were real, he would have thrown his poop at you and possibly given you rabies."

"He's not that kind of monkey."

Quinn smiled. "I'll help you clean up, Tantrum Girl."

\--

They clean up and leave the school.

They're on the way back to her mother's house when her sister shoots her a text asking her to pick up some Thai take-out from Jasmine Thai Restaurant, which is the only vegan Thai restaurant in town. It's a little out of the way, but Rachel agrees anyway.

On their way back to her mother's house from picking up food, Rachel passes Sheryl Spencer's house and winces.

"That's Sheryl's house," Rachel says quietly, slowing down and pausing briefly in front of it to glance to her right. "Well, her parents' house."

Quinn's jaw clenches. "Does she still live here in town?"

"She lives in New York. The last I heard anyway. She still keeps in touch with my mom, but she doesn't come up much when I call home."

"What do you think your mom would do if she ever found out about you and Sheryl?" Quinn asks curiously.

Rachel makes a face at the thought. "I'd never tell my mom about that. It's way too personal, and definitely not something I feel I could tell her about. We aren't close like that." She pauses. "Besides, I think it would hurt my mom if she knew. When Jesse got me pregnant, my mom chased him for six blocks screaming at him."

Quinn chuckles. "I really can't imagine your mom doing that. She seems so together."

"She is, mostly. My parents have always been a little overprotective of me and Audrey."

Quinn looks back to cast one final glance at the Spencer house before it slips from view.

"If I ever meet this Sheryl girl, I'm beating her up," Quinn mutters darkly.

Rachel laughs, feeling a wave of adoration overwhelm her. She feels really lucky and blessed in this moment to have so many people in her life who love her and clearly want to protect her.

"You're cute, baby," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn scowls a little. "You think I'm cute? I just said I was going to beat someone up!"

Rachel laughs. "I love you so much," she says sincerely. "Even when you're voicing socially unacceptable inclinations, I still think you are ridiculously appealing."

Quinn laughs and Rachel feels her stomach turn gooey. She's so in love with this girl, it makes her feel pathetic when she stops to think about it.

It's comfortably quiet on the drive back to her mom's house, and Rachel's glad they did this-- she really needed some time away from her family. It's not that she's spent a lot of time with them since she's been back-- admittedly, she's mostly been holed up in her room with Quinn, but she has spent most of it in her mother's house or on the phone with her fathers. She just needed some time not to think about them.

\--

She parks the car in the garage and thinks about adjusting the mirrors and seat back to conform to her mother's settings, but she knows she won't be able to do it to her mother's precise specifications, so she doesn't try.

She takes Quinn by the hand and walks into the house, carrying the Thai takeaways, and shouting for her mother and sister.

Her sister barrels in and snatches the bag of food away.

"Thank God! I'm starving!" Audrey calls out as she practically runs to the kitchen.

Rachel smiles affectionately. "She gets cranky if she doesn't eat. I always thought that was weird. I don't get moody when I don't eat."

"I kind of do," Quinn offers.

Rachel grins. "I know."

Quinn rolls her eyes and gently elbows Rachel in the ribs. "Shut it, Berry."

"You shut it, Fabray."

\--

Audrey's unpacking the food, so Rachel sets the table. Her mom wanders in and begins pouring glasses of iced tea for everyone.

"Did you have a nice time?" Shelby asks.

"Yes," Rachel and Quinn answer together.

"There's not much to see, is there?" Shelby asks, addressing Quinn.

Quinn smiles wryly. "It's nice to see where Rachel grew up," she answers diplomatically.

That makes both Rachel and Shelby smile, though Audrey rolls her eyes. Seeing it, Rachel casts a warning glance at Audrey. Rachel knows Audrey is just being protective, but she's the older sister. She does not need protection from her little sister. And she doesn't think she has blinders on about Quinn, the way her sister alleges.

"I would have left this town a long time ago if it weren't for my girls," Shelby murmurs, looking at Rachel first, and then Audrey. "There isn't much to do here except for raise children." She smiles at Quinn. "Not that there's anything wrong with that when one raises girls like mine."

Quinn smiles back. "Rachel and Audrey both seem a little big for this town though."

Rachel and Shelby both beam at her. Even Audrey grins.

'Charmer,' Rachel mouths at Quinn when both her mother and her sister are looking away.

Quinn smiles.

\--

After dinner, everyone goes into the living room.

Quinn sits in the living room with her knees together, and her back very straight. She's clearly a little uncomfortable and Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand to give it a little squeeze. Quinn seems to relax instantly. They've spent most of their time their thus far in her bedroom, so Rachel can't blame Quinn for being uncomfortable.

The four of them watch a rerun of Cake Boss and Rachel becomes surprisingly invested. She's so absorbed she doesn't see Quinn shift slightly and glance to her right, catching sight of a photograph on an end table.

"Oh my gosh," Quinn says, grabbing the photo.

Rachel peers over to see what Quinn is looking at and groans.

"Mom!" Rachel whines, aghast. "I told you to burn this one!"

Shelby scowls. "That is never going to happen."

"Mom!" Rachel huffs.

"Haha, you're a retard," Audrey mocks.

"Shut it." Rachel snaps.

"You shut it, retard."

"No, you shut it. You know how I feel about that word."

"That's because you're a retard, retard."

"Shut it!"

"Stop it, both of you," Shelby scolds.

Quinn stares at Rachel curiously for a moment, a little surprised by that childish display because as far as Quinn has seen, Rachel's always been so nurturing to Audrey. But the regression to childhood antics makes her chuckle a little because yes, Rachel is human.

"What is going on in this picture?" Quinn asks with a bright smile, staring lovingly at the photograph.

Rachel groans, but Shelby laughs warmly.

Rachel hates this particular picture of herself at five years old with her two best friends, Tina and Mercedes. They'd been over at her fathers' house for a play date and were playing dress-up when they were struck with the sudden urge to perform. So, still clad in their costumes, they rode their tricycles six blocks to the nearest strip mall where they immediately launched into singing songs, a cappella.

Until the police found them and called their hysterical parents who thought their children had been kidnapped.

The picture had been taken by a reporter who happened to be in the area and the picture with the accompanying story had been the feel-good news story of the week. Rachel feels mortified when she looks back on it, and she can still remember the spanking her fathers gave her that night. It was the first and only time they'd used an object to spank her, and also the first and only time a spanking ever left bruises. Though she can honestly say she'd deserved it, the memory of it still embarrasses her.

The picture had each of them clad in white t-shirts, black pants, blue sweaters, straw hats and an excess of beaded necklaces. Each of them were wearing a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses in different colors. They look ridiculous.

Shelby wraps her arm around Rachel's waist and presses an affectionate kiss to Rachel's cheek.

"When Rachel was five, she and her friends Mercedes and Tina snuck out of Rachel's fathers' house when they were supposed to be having a play date. I was hysterical-- Rachel had only turned five a few days before, but it was getting close to Christmas and you know how crazed people are around that time."

Quinn nods in acknowledgement.

"I was crying, Rachel's fathers were crying. Both Mercedes's and Tina's parents were in tears. We called the police. Half the police force was looking for the girls-- they were so young, after all."

Quinn gives Rachel a sidelong glance. Rachel shrugs helplessly.

"We found them about six blocks away near a Walmart next to a Salvation Army donations worker. They were singing Motown songs a cappella in front of a fairly large group of people-- in costume, as you can see."

Quinn stares at Shelby for a moment and then at Rachel in disbelief.

Rachel crosses her arms. "We made like four hundred bucks! Mercedes said so!" she huffs.

"Actually, it was closer to about eighty," Shelby gently corrects. "And we donated all of it to the Salvation Army donations worker."

Quinn bites her lip hoping to contain her laughter, but it's ineffectual. She howls with laughter.

"Oh. My. God! You've always been such an attention whore!" Quinn says, trying to catch her breath.

"Quinn!"

"The only thing I find surprising about that story is that you were singing Motown, not Broadway stuff."

"Mercedes won the coin toss," Rachel says sulkily

Quinn continues to laugh and Rachel pokes Quinn in the shoulder. "It's not that funny!" she says, fighting a smile. She presses a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "You don't see me making fun of your childhood antics!"

"I was never this cute," Quinn says softly, staring down at the picture and running her index finger on the picture, over Rachel's figure.

Rachel smiles warmly. "I bet you were adorable. Now there needs to be a little reciprocity. I demand you show me your baby pictures."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Believe me, I wasn't much to look at." She averts her eyes from Rachel and looks at Shelby. "Could I have a copy of this picture?"

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaims, outraged.

"It's just so cute!"

Shelby laughs. "Of course. I have several copies of it, just in case, from when Rachel attempted to burn it when she was seven."

Quinn stares at Rachel, incredulous. "You were a firestarter, too?!"

"I wasn't a firestarter!"

"Yeah, right," Quinn teases.

Rachel elbows Quinn. "Shut it, Fabray. I wasn't a firestarter"

"You're only saying that because you don't have a comeback."

Rachel crosses her arms. "No," she huffs petulantly.

"Firestarter."

"I wasn't a firestarter!"  
\--

Later that evening, Rachel leaves Quinn sleeping in her room and pads into the living room to hide that terrible picture on the highest shelf her mother has in her house. She needs a chair to do so, but she gets it accomplished. She gets off the chair, feeling triumphant until she sees her mother has also come into the living room.

"Hi, mom," Rachel greets brightly. "I was just looking for a book."

Shelby rolls her eyes. 'You were hiding the picture. Again."

Rachel grins. "I hate that picture,"

Shelby smiles back. "I'm going to make sure it's in your wedding video."

Rachel makes a face. "Mom"

"Your girlfriend is right, it's a cute picture."

"We're just dating, mom. She's not really my girlfriend."

Rachel doesn't want to add the 'yet' part because she knows it will make her sound too hopeful and pathetic, like she's just waiting around for commitment. It feels kind of true.

"But you want something more."

It's a statement, not a question.

"I love her," Rachel affirms.

Shelby crosses her arms. "Rachel, you're very young…"

"You weren't much older when you had me," Rachel points out.

"That's different and you know it."

"I'm merely pointing out that both situations are life-changing."

"I've been young and in love, too, Rachel. I wasn't always your shrew of a mother."

"I've never thought you were a shrew," Rachel says sincerely.

No matter what her fathers have said.

"I just don't want you to lose sight of your goals, Rachel. I don't know anything about this girl, and she seems very sweet--"

"She is," Rachel interrupts, agitated.

Shelby blinks, unaccustomed to Rachel being so defensive with her. "I don't want to discourage your relationship," Shelby says gently. "You seem very happy with her and of course I want that for you. I'm your mom. I just want to give you some advice-- you have ambitions and dreams, and I don't want you to lose sight of them. I understand that being in love may make you want to compromise them, but relationships come and go, Rachel. Anyone who wants to be with you will never stand in the way of your goals. You shouldn't ever have to choose, and Rachel, really, if someone is trying to make you choose, you shouldn't choose them."

Rachel swallows hard. "Quinn would never make me do that. She supports me. She's my biggest cheerleader."

"All right." Shelby pauses. "I just want you to be safe," she says tenderly. "You're my baby. My first baby."

'Audrey's your baby,' Rachel thinks to herself, but she doesn't voice it. She's never felt close or connected with her mother. All of her life, she always felt her mother preferred her sister over her. "I can take care of myself," Rachel says softly. "You don’t have to worry about me. Not where Quinn is involved. She would never hurt me."

"She already has," Shelby points out.

Rachel flushes, thinking about that night when she and Quinn were first dating when she overheard Quinn telling Hope 'I don't find her attractive. At all.' Sometimes, in weaker moments, Rachel wonders if maybe there's some truth in that. She knows now Quinn only said it to try to discourage Hope's crush on her, but back then, it'd hurt terribly. It was the way Quinn said it, and that 'at all.' Any time someone said 'at all' as a separate sentence, it was always so unnecessarily bitchy and Rachel still found herself hurt by the memory-- even more than the knowledge that Quinn slept with someone else while they were dating even if the latter was more spitefully motivated. The former still digs away at her self-esteem and she thinks about it frequently while the latter just irritates her when she thinks about it, which isn't that often.

"Well, Audrey shouldn't have told you about that."

"Audrey was just worried about you," Shelby says. "As was I."

"Quinn makes me happy, mom," Rachel says softly. "I love her. I really love her."

"I know you do, baby," Shelby murmurs. "I want you to be careful when you take her to meet your fathers, all right? You know how your fathers can be with the people you date."

Rachel winces. "I know."

"She seems very sweet," Shelby says quietly. "If things become…uncomfortable at your fathers' house, you can always come home."

"I know, mom. Thank you."

Shelby sighs. "I wish you'd come home more, even though I'm so proud of you for working so much out there. Maybe you should come home for a couple weeks this summer."

Rachel bites her lip. "Maybe."

Shelby smiles brightly. "Do you know who was asking me about you last week?"

Rachel shrugs. "Mr. Schuester?" she guesses.

Shelby waves away the guess. "Sheryl Spencer. I directed her to your MySpace page. She may try to message you, though I'm sure she's not on MySpace and uses Facebook like everyone else."

Rachel tries not to wince. "That's nice…how is she doing?"

"Very well, she has a role off-Broadway." Shelby smiles. "She's slowly making a name for herself. But I know by the time you're her age, you'll already be a household name."

"I hope so," Rachel says, forcing herself to smile.

Shelby gently pats Rachel on the butt. "Go get some rest."

\--

By the time Rachel gets back to her room, she feels uncomfortably emotional. She crawls into bed and presses up against Quinn, hugging the blonde tightly, spooning the blonde.

Quinn stirs. "Rachel?" she whispers. "What's wrong, baby?" There's a note of alarm creeping into her voice and she tenses up.

Rachel rubs her nose into the back of Quinn's shoulder. "Nothing," she whispers. "I'm fine." She swallows hard. "Quinn."

"What is it?"

"I love you."

Quinn's body relaxes. "I love you, too," she says softly, clearly relieved that nothing is wrong.

"I don't want to date anyone other than you," Rachel says thickly. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Quinn is quiet for a moment and Rachel's face falls at the hesitation. She starts to pull away but then Quinn grips at her hands.

"Of course," Quinn replies. "Baby, are you okay?" she whispers. "You sound upset."

Rachel chuckles softly. "I'm fine," she says.

Quinn shifts and turns so they're face-to-face. Her hands move up to cup Rachel's cheeks. "What's got you so emotional?" she asks tenderly. "Is it about your grandma?"

Rachel shakes her head. "No," she says quietly. "I just…I love you and I can't stand the thought of being with anyone other than you or you being with someone other than me."

"Okay," Quinn accepts, and she leans her head forward to press her lips against Rachel's. "I would love to be your girlfriend. Why don't I buy you dinner tomorrow night to celebrate?"

Rachel laughs quietly. "There's not a lot of places in Lima to go."

"We'll think of something, we only need you and me."

"Yeah," Rachel agrees softly. "Okay."

\--

When Rachel wakes up the next morning, it's early, but Quinn stirs next to her.

"I'm going for a run, come with me?"

"No," Quinn mutters. "You go. I'm a normal human being. Not a mutant like you."

Rachel laughs softly. "Okay."

\--

When Rachel gets back from her run, Quinn is with her mother drinking coffee in the kitchen.

"Hey," Rachel says in surprise.

"Hi," Quinn and Shelby say together.

"Uh…I'm going to take a shower. Quinn, do you want to come with?"

She really intends that to give Quinn an out to get away from her mother, if Quinn wants, but it comes across way more suggestively than she wants.

Immediately, Rachel blushes. "I mean! Uh…I…"

Quinn gives her a fond smile. "Go shower. It's okay. I'll hang out with your mom."

Still beet red, Rachel walks away, her head ducked down.

"Rachel," Shelby calls out.

Rachel pauses and turns, but she can't quite meet her mother's gaze.

Shelby sounds amused as she says, "Rachel, Quinn, for the rest of the time you two are here, I want one of you in the living room if the other one is showering."

Rachel can't believe she can blush any deeper, but she does. She gives a slight nod and then scrambles away.

\--

Quinn is playfully teasing when Rachel walks back into the kitchen for a glass of water after her shower.

"Your mom showed me some baby pictures," Quinn says. "You had the cutest little butt," Quinn teases. "You really liked to show it off."

Rachel turns red even up to her ears. She had exhibitionist tendencies as a toddler, and it's sort of mortifying to have it immortalized through pictures. A picture from one of her baths during the first year of her life is nicknamed 'Rachel's first full moon' in her family because she's grinning into the camera while her bare butt is exposed.

Shelby slaps her hand jovially on Rachel's back. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart. It’s how we all knew you were meant to perform."

Quinn bursts into laughter. "Your mom showed me the video of you when you were eight months old at that baby beauty pageant."

Rachel blushes. "Oh God."

"It was your first public full moon!" Quinn jokes.

Rachel covers her face with her hand because that means Quinn saw the 'Rachel's first full moon' picture and now she is so embarrassed. That performance in the pageant is the stuff of family legend when she mooned the audience in the middle of her performance but continued on with her dance in spite of it. She was already walking and dancing by then when most eight month old babies were barely able to turn themselves over. She knows she should be boasting about how advanced she was, even as an infant, but she's actually more embarrassed her attention-whore tendencies were there even as a baby.

Rachel laughs. "Thanks, mom," she says dryly.

\--

That evening Rachel takes Quinn to Breadstix for dinner to commemorate their decision for exclusivity.

"Santana would love this place," Quinn says, marveling as various waiters bring refills of breadsticks to the tables around them. She has never seen a more liberal unlimited breadsticks policy, to the point it borders on both disgusting and profane. "My dad would have said this place was disgustingly gluttonous."

"Your dad is a jerk," Rachel murmurs softly. "Although I must concede he would be right on that count."

Quinn ducks her head. "Yeah."

The subject of Quinn's father always makes the blonde so sad and Rachel just wishes there were something she could do to make it better.

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Rachel murmurs softly, squeezing Quinn's hand. "Not here," she clarifies. "But with you."

Quinn ducks her head and smiles shyly. But she doesn't say anything in response.

Rachel smiles and thinks it's best to veer toward safer bits of conversation. "When I first found out about Santana's breadsticks fixation, I thought of this place."

Quinn laughs. "Maybe we can bring her one day."

Rachel grins. "Because Lima is such a tourist destination, right?" she quips.

Quinn tents her fingers together and leans across the table. "One day," she murmurs. "It'll be known at Rachel Berry's hometown. And itwill be a tourist attraction"

Rachel blushes. She lowers her gaze and then after a moment, peeks up at Quinn through her lashes. "So," she says. "Tomorrow. Do you think we can drop by and visit my dads? They haven't said anything to me yet, but if I don't make an appearance soon, they will."

Quinn smiles, though it seems a little nervous to Rachel. "Okay."

Rachel rubs her leg against Quinn's under the table. "Don't worry," she says softly.

Quinn smiles, a little more fully this time. "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Rachel tries to get her sister to come with her to see their fathers, but Audrey is stubborn and declines.

"Mom needs me more than they do right now."

Rachel wants to point out that Audrey's refusal will just bring more drama, but she doesn't want to get into it with her sister, so she just nods, takes Quinn by the hand and borrows her mother's car again.

\--

It's six pm when she and Quinn drop by the house. She walks inside and booms "I'm home!"

Her daddy, John, comes running into the foyer with a huge grin. He's still dressed in his work clothes. "Hey, baby girl!" He picks Rachel up into a hug, lifting her and spins her around. "My little girl," he murmurs into her hair. "I'm so happy you're home." He sets Rachel down and then turns to Quinn. "Hello, Quinn. It's good to see you again."

Quinn smiles nervously. "Hello, sir."

Rachel wishes her father would tell Quinn to stop calling him 'sir,' but she also knows that it's daddy whom Quinn needs to win over, and he won't tell her that until she has.

John looks at Rachel contemplatively for a moment. "You're a little heavier than the last time I did that, I think."

Rachel suppresses the urge to remind him the last time he did that to her, she was fourteen and won a singing competition. She ignores the comment and he seems to forget to question her about her weight because he looks around for Audrey.

"Where's Aud?"

"She's with mom. She…"

John looks angry. "I told your mother that--"

"It wasn't mom. Audrey just--"

But her father is already stalking away to retrieve his phone.

Rachel sighs.

Quinn rubs her back. "You okay, baby?"

"Fine," she says.

There's shouting from the living room and Rachel hears her father say "you fucking bitch" and she winces because she knows her visit home will now be uncomfortable.

Her father stalks back a few moments later and thrusts his keys into her chest so hard, she stumbles backward. "Go pick up your sister."

"Okay," Rachel says meekly.

He's stalking away and Rachel can't meet Quinn's eyes as she turns to walk out the door. She leaves her father's keys behind, because she borrowed her mother's car to drive here.

"Are you okay? Quinn asks hesitantly.

"Fine," Rachel says, her voice clipped.

She and Quinn are walking toward her mother's car when her dad, home from work, pulls up into the driveway.

Once he sees her, he doesn't go into the garage, choosing instead to park in the driveway. He gets out of the car.

"Rachel? Sweetheart? Are you leaving already?"

"No, dad. I'm just going to mom's. Daddy wants me to pick up Audrey and bring her home."

Her voice trembles a little.

Her father glances toward the house. "Why don't you and Quinn pick up some ice cream for dessert? I'll go pick up your sister."

Rachel bites her lip. "I can pick her up, dad."

She does not want her dad and her mom to get into some kind of emotional confrontation.

"Really," her dad insists. "I'll pick up your sister. You get some ice cream." He gives her a tiny smile. "Not the soy kind. And not the almond milk kind either. Made with real milk, the fattier the better."

She rolls her eyes. "Dad."

"Maybe get a sorbet to compromise," he teases.

Rachel shakes her head. She does not want her mother and dad to get into an argument in front of Audrey when she won't be there to mediate it. "I'll go, Dad."

His voice is a little sterner and his eyes become a little colder. "Go get ice cream, Rachel."

Rachel swallows hard and acquiesces. "Okay."

Her dad turns to Quinn. "Hi, Quinn," he says, extending his hand. "I'm Peter."

Quinn smiles, though once again, it seems nervous to Rachel. "Hello, it's nice to meet you, sir."

"Just Peter is fine," he says with a smile.

He pushes Rachel toward her mother's car. "Go."

\--

It's quiet in the car ride to the grocery store and Rachel feels ashamed of herself. She's too embarrassed to say anything, so she stays silent.

They take their time making their purchase, even though it's only one carton of ice cream.

By the time they get back to her fathers' house, there is shouting. Her daddy is shouting at Audrey, Audrey is shouting at daddy and dad is shouting at both of them to calm down.

Rachel sighs.

\--

Everyone manages to calm down for dinner which is Italian delivery from her daddy's favorite restaurant. It also has a decent vegan menu selection.

Unthinkingly, Rachel takes off the cardigan sweater she's wearing.

Her dad looks at her. "Did you gain weight, baby?"

Rachel flushes. "Maybe a little."

"You need to be careful with that, sweetheart. You look fine, of course. But it's so easy to gain weight and so difficult to lose weight. It's always better if you need to gain weight for a role than the other way around."

"Too true," her daddy chimes in with a sigh. "You should see me trying to get rid of these love handles," he says, patting his sides. "You don't want to grow any of your own, do you, baby?" He reaches over to her and pinches her sides. "Huh, you have gained weight though, baby. Watch what you eat tonight. Maybe no ice cream for you, baby."

Humiliated, Rachel lowers her eyes to her plate. She bites her lower lip and she can feel how flushed her face must look right now.

"We only want what's best for you, baby," her daddy says. "It's better that it comes from us and not from someone else, don't you think? This way you can be proactive about it before it because a problem."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel can see Quinn _bristle_ and her mouth part to speak. Hurriedly, Rachel grabs Quinn's hand under the table and gives it a tight squeeze, silently begging Quinn not to say anything.

She knows her fathers don't mean anything by it, and it really is their attempt to encourage her career in the only way they can and the only way they know how.

"I know," Rachel says. "Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Daddy."

Audrey huffs loudly.

Daddy looks angry. "Is there something you want to add, young lady?" he asks, addressing Audrey.

Audrey glares at him. "I think it's creepy you guys are ogling her enough to notice," she says bluntly. "It's not like she's over-spilling her bikini. You guys aren't supposed to have some weird crush on your own daughter. "

'Oh no,' Rachel thinks.

Daddy is so furious he turns a shade known in their family as 'blurple' (black + purple). "I wouldn't be so casually dismissive of our observations if I were you, young lady. Don't think I haven't noticed how much weight _you've_ gained. Maybe _you're_ going to overspill your bikini."

"Sorry, Daddy," Rachel says quickly before Audrey can say anything further. "I think Aud and I are both pretty emotional right now. We don't mean to be disrespectful."

He looks regretful by his loss of control. "I think you both look beautiful, you know that," he says. "But your dad and I can't control the way society views women. We just want to give you the best chance at success, Rach. But I wasn't trying to put either of you down."

"I know, daddy," Rachel says. "Really." She smiles at her dad as well. "Sorry, dad."

"It's fine, baby."

The rest of dinner is quiet and uncomfortable. The only thing Rachel is glad for is that her fathers don't interrogate Quinn.

After dinner, Rachel and Quinn wash the dishes. Audrey's already gone back to their mother's by then, but Rachel feels the necessity to spend a little more time with her dads, so they watch _Mamma Mia_ together after Rachel gives Quinn a brief tour of the house.

Music can always make Rachel feel better, because once the first musical number kicks in, she already feels better. She starts singing along once 'Honey Honey' kicks in, and of course, Quinn joins her. By 'Mamma Mia,' her fathers join in and they all sing along to the whole movie.

Audrey took their mother's car back, so her dad has to drop off her and Quinn at her mom's house, but everyone is in pretty good spirits, so Rachel is not afraid of any kind of confrontation.

\--

They're lying in bed that night after they've washed up when Quinn quietly calls out her name.

"Yes?" Rachel whispers.

"You know you look great, right?" Quinn asks softly. "You're beautiful. Your dads, they--"

"They're just trying to be helpful," Rachel cuts in gently. "I don't think they actually mean anything by it. And they're men, so they don't always know how it makes us feel when they basically call us fat."

Quinn is quiet for a long moment. "If they do that again, I'm going to say something. Don't try to stop me again."

Rachel sighs. "Please don't," she says softly. "It won't do any good. They don't mean anything by it."

"What if it were my dad saying that kind of thing to me?" Quinn asks pointedly.

"You dad would have very different motivations," Rachel says quietly. She doesn't say it to hurt Quinn, but it's true. "They were trying to be helpful. This is how they are. Please don't say anything. I want them to like you and they won't if you do that. Please, baby. It's hard enough keeping the peace on a good day, please don't make things worse. It's sweet you want to defend me, but unnecessary-- it would only make things worse."

Quinn sighs raggedly. "Okay," she acquiesces grudgingly.

But Rachel can see the concession is difficult for her.

\--

Rachel lays low the next day. She knows her sister is angry with her, and she doesn't want to get into it.

She doesn't have a lot of reason to worry though, because her sister spends the day with some friends from high school who are still living in Lima.

Rachel didn't have many friends in Lima-- her two best friends, Tina and Mercedes both escaped from Lima right after high school, too. They were both saddened by her grandmother's passing, but neither of their Spring Breaks coincided with hers, so they're both still in the midst of classes.

Neither of them come home much to Lima anyway. All of her other friends also left Lima and she takes great pride in the fact that they were the people deemed 'losers' at McKinley, but they were also the ones who managed to get out. The popular jocks and cheerleaders who were cruel to them, are, for the most part, still in Lima. She doesn't relish the bad luck of other people, but she can't help feeling a sense of schaudenfreude when Azimo Adams is the gas jockey at the gas station where Rachel fills up her mother's gas tank.

Consequently, there's not a lot to do in Lima, at least not in terms of any parties or activities with other people and Rachel feels a little embarrassed for herself because now Quinn is privy to what a loser she was in this town.

But Quinn doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm sorry there's not more to do," Rachel apologizes. "I wish I could take you to a party or something, but…" she trails off.

Quinn shrugs and gives her a slight smile. "I don't like to share you. So, it's okay."

\--

Rachel borrows one of her fathers' cars and takes Quinn to Edgewater Beach for a picnic. It's one of her favorite places from childhood and Rachel feels her spirits lift the moment they spread a blanket on the sand and set up an umbrella. It's not exactly warm, but not cold either. It's comfortable, especially after they cover themselves with a thin blanket. It's not exactly needed, but that familiar weight feels reassuring.

She ends up falling asleep and when she wakes up, Quinn is running her fingers through her hair. She gives Quinn a little smile.

"Hey."

Quinn smiles back. "Hey," she murmurs, lightly scratching at Rachel's scalp. "Go back to sleep for a little while. You haven't been sleeping well lately."

Rachel opens her mouth to protest, but she thinks better of it and nestles closer to Quinn. "Don't you dare fall asleep, too, and let me get a sunburn."

Quinn laughs softly. "Go to sleep."

\--

Rachel wakes up twenty minutes later from her power nap, feeling refreshed. Quinn is looking through her own phone at pictures of the two of them and Rachel has to smile. They look through some pictures for a while, laughing quietly as they recall what they were doing in the moments before the picture was taken. She can't believe she can be nostalgic about a relationship that is still so new.

It's so cheesy, like something out of a online dating service ad, but they go for a long walk on the beach, running away from the water when a particularly big wave comes in and playfully pretending to try to shove one another into the water. Some guy walking his dog ambles by, and Rachel and Quinn spend ten minutes fawning over the adorable animal until the guy hits on both of them and Rachel and Quinn make a hasty exit.

\--

It's past dinner time by the time they get back to her fathers' house to drop off the car-- their Spring vacation is nearly over and Rachel feels so bad that their Cancun vacation is totally ruined.

"I'm sorry about Cancun," Rachel says lowly before they get out of the car.

"Don't be," Quinn says softly. "We still got to go to the beach." She gives Rachel a beaming smile.

Rachel feels her heart pick up speed. She loves this girl so much.

"Maybe we can take a little vacation on the next three day weekend," Rachel suggests. "I know it's not the same as Cancun, but maybe we can go to San Francisco or something. I've never been. Have you?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No, I haven't. That sounds great," Quinn says softly.

Rachel beams. "Great."

\--

They go back into the house to drop off her dad's keys. Her fathers are cuddled together on the sofa watching a DVD that Rachel recognizes as her final _My Fair Lady_ performance in a Spring Break production at the local theatre .

"You guys," Rachel says with fond exasperation.

Daddy shrugs. "You can't fault us."

"Do you girls want to watch?" Dad asks.

Rachel makes a face. "Why would I want to watch my own performance?"

"I'd like to see," Quinn says quietly with a shy smile.

Rachel makes another face. "Quinn. Ew."

Peter chuckles. "Quinn, I'll make you a copy of the DVD. You can take it home with you."

"Dad!"

"What?"Peter asks with a grin. "I can't show off my daughter?"

Rachel makes a displeased noise. She loves it when Quinn comes to her shows-- but the idea of Quinn seeing her high school performances makes her feel a little embarrassed.

"Do you play any instruments, Quinn?" John asks, pausing the DVD.

Quinn ducks her head. "I used to play a little piano until I was 12," she says. "But Rachel said she'd teach me when we get back to school."

Johnnods. "Last night at dinner, you mentioned you were still undeclared for your major?"

Quinn nods. "I'll probably double major in English and Economics though," she says softly.

"Sounds like sensible options," John says.

They chat for a little longer and Rachel thinks everything is going pretty well. But she knows it's time to get back to her mother's.

"Dad? Can you give us a ride back to mom's?"

"Sure, baby."

Rachel smiles and impetuously grabs Quinn by the hand. They share a brief, closed-mouth kiss before Rachel giggles and pulls Quinn, also giggling, out of the living room and toward the front door.

\--

They're waiting for her dad in the foyer, when her daddy pops in.

"Rach, baby girl? Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Rachel glances at Quinn for a moment, but then shrugs. "Sure, daddy."

She follows him into the kitchen.

"You and Quinn seem very serious," he says.

"We're dating, daddy."

"I've noticed that you and Quinn are… very affectionate with one another."

"Well, yes, daddy. We're dating. That happens when two people are dating."

"Don't be snide, Rachel."

"Sorry," Rachel says quietly.

"Rachel, I'm going to be blunt with you. I don't think you and Quinn should be so open about your relationship. You haven't established a career yet and you don't want to be typecast based on a relationship that may be very short-lived."

Rachel stares at him incredulously. "Daddy, are you serious?"

"Rachel, baby. Yes, I am. I'm thinking of you and your career here. There are a plethora of gay actors and musicians who are more well-known for being gay than for their talent and I don't want you to be one of them. You know how I feel about celesbians."

Even though Rachel is furious at the moment, she has to crack a smile at her very serious father using the word, celesbian, a portmanteau of 'celebrity' and 'lesbian.' She's heard many diatribes against celesbians. She doesn't know what the male equivalent of a celesbian is, but her father has ranted about them, too.

Her father grins back.

"Baby," he says gently. "I wouldn't be giving you this lecture if I had the sense that this Quinn girl was worth it. But I just don't get the sense that she is. She doesn't want the same things you do-- she will never understand your commitment to your career. I don't want anything you do with her to affect you long-term. Long after your relationship with her ends, you will have a career, and I don't want you to endanger that by being too open when you're in public with her."

"Daddy, I don't live in Lima anymore. LA is not as narrow-minded like it is here."

"Sweetheart, Prop 8 passed in California. Don't forget that."

"I'm not ashamed of my relationship with Quinn," Rachel says defiantly.

"And I don't want you to be. I'm just advising you to be a little more discreet."

"I love her, Daddy."

"I know you do, sweetheart. But you hardly know this girl."

"Daddy, if you knew her like I knew her, you wouldn't be saying this to me," Rachel says, her voice wavering.

"Baby, have I ever steered you wrong? I know you love her, but I have my doubts about this relationship. I have my doubts about _her_. Don't think I forgot what she said about you."

"Daddy, there were extenuating circumstances!"

"Which were?"

Rachel deflates. She thinks that telling her father that Quinn only said she didn't find Rachel attractive at all to deter Hope's crush on her would not endear Quinn to her father at all.

"I'm not going to stop dating her," Rachel says defiantly. "I love her."

"I'm not telling you to stop dating her. I'm telling you to be more discreet," he said, his voice chilling considerably as he grabs her arm and presses not-so-gently. "Show respect and stop taking that tone with me. Immediately."

Rachel temper deflates and she shrinks under his cold gaze. "I'll think about what you said, daddy," she says quietly, because she knows he won't stop hounding her until she says at least that.

He smiles and the grip on her arm lessens. He rubs her back. "I'm just looking out for you, sweetheart. I just don't trust this girl."

"Okay," she says quietly.

\--

She walks back to the foyer where her dad and Quinn are chatting amiably.

Quinn takes one look at her and takes a few steps toward her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Rachel says brusquely, brushing past her, out the door.

She waits by the car and watches her daddy shake hands with Quinn before her dad and Quinn walk toward her. Once at the car, her dad looks back at her daddy, but gets into the car anyway. Quinn reaches for her hand, but Rachel pulls it away.

They sit together in the backseat and she keeps seeing Quinn look at her through her peripheral vision, but she keeps her hands in her pockets.

By the time they get to her mom's house, Rachel can sense Quinn's bewilderment.

Quinn reaches for her hand again as they walk into the house, but once again, Rachel pulls her hand away.

\--

Once they're in her room and the door is shut, Quinn spins around and stares at her.

"What did I do wrong?" Quinn asks, teary-eyed.

"Nothing," Rachel says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger.

"You seem upset," Quinn counters.

"Well, I'm not," Rachel snaps.

Quinn swallows visibly. "Did I do something to offend your father? Is that why he wanted to talk to you?"

"It's not always about you, Quinn," Rachel says brusquely. After the last few days, her nerves are frayed and she just can't handle this conversation, not after the talk she had with her father,

"I didn't mean--" Quinn trails off. Quinn takes a few steps closer to Rachel, her arms reaching out to the brunette.

Rachel steps back and crosses her arms over her chest. "What didn't you mean?" she asks flatly.

Quinn swallows hard. "I thought we had a good time today," she says quietly. "What happened? What's wrong? What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Rachel says, softening slightly.

"But it seems like I did," Quinn presses.

"Well, you didn't, so talking to me!" Rachel snaps, her voice elevated.

Quinn recoils, as if slapped. But then her face hardens. "Don't yell at me."

Rachel sneers at her dismissively. "What are you going to do about it?" She just feels so combative and even knowing what she's doing is wrong, she can't seem to stop herself. Rachel knows herself and she knows she needs to get away from Quinn before she does something regrettable. "Forget it," Rachel snaps. "I'm going to go for a run." She turns to her bureau to change her clothes for her run, but Quinn grabs her by the arm and spins her around so they are looking at one another.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" Quinn yells.

"Nothing! Just you pushing my buttons!"

"How?! How am I pushing your buttons? What did I _do_?!" Quinn's voice cracks. "Tell me what I did!"

Quinn's voice is plaintive and her eyes are _enormous_ and shiny with unshed tears and Rachel immediately feels all of her misdirected anger wash away. It's so unlike Quinn to react this way-- Rachel is fully aware of the fact her girlfriend is insecure, but typically, Quinn covers that up by lashing out, not by allowing herself to be even more vulnerable. Rachel feels like an asshole.

"God," Rachel says, shutting her eyes and bringing her hand to her head. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry, baby. You didn't do anything wrong. You're…you're _perfect_ ," Rachel says, dropping to her knees to wrap her arms around Quinn's waist in fealty and apology. Her grip is tight and she presses her cheek into Quinn's belly. "I'm so sorry," she whispers. "I had the most awful…I'd like to call it an argument, but it wasn't. I was such a _weakling_ with him. I should have stood up to him and I didn't and I was just so mad at him and myself and I took it out on you. I'm _so_ sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

Quinn's fingers thread through Rachel's hair. "What happened?" she whispers.

Rachel makes a conscious decision not to tell Quinn _everything_ because she doesn't want Quinn to know how her father feels about her.

"He told me to stop being so affectionate with you in public, that it could be bad for my career being so out."

Quinn jumps slightly, clearly startled and her fingers pull a little too hard at Rachel's hair.

"Bu-but h-how can he say that?" she stammers.

"It's just how he is," Rachel says quietly.

"Wh-what does this mean for us?" Quinn asks, her voice wavering slightly.

" _Nothing_ ," Rachel promises, holding onto Quinn's hands and peering up at her. "Nothing, I promise. I don't _care_ what he says. I'm proud of what we have, I'm proud of _you_ and no one would ever deter me from showing it."

"But he's your father and--"

"I have two of them," Rachel says, her voice steely. "I love you. I'm sorry for being so awful to you," she says, her voice shaking. "I just…" she swallows hard. "I was so angry and upset. I'm…I'm different when I come here. It's why I don't like to be here. I _hate_ myself here. I feel so stupid and useless and I'm so sorry I let my father throw me off like that. But you never did _anything_ wrong. This was all my fault and I…" Rachel's voice cracks. "I'm so _sorry_."

"Okay, okay, now," Quinn says gently, getting on her knees, too, so she can wrap her arms around Rachel in a hug. "There's no need to embarrass yourself."

Rachel laughs softly into Quinn's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice cracking again.

"It's okay," Quinn says softly. "I'm sorry about what your father said."

Rachel closes her eyes and presses her cheek to Quinn's. "Me too."

\--

They stay like that for a while and Rachel cries a little more because she's disappointed in daddy, though she's not exactly surprised he would emphasize her career to that degree.

But after a while, she's thirsty, so she gets up to get a glass of water.

She passes by her mother's room and hears her mother's agitated voice.

"How dare you say that to her! She's in her bedroom _crying_ because of what you said to her! She and her girlfriend just had an argument because of it! What is _wrong_ with you, John?"

Rachel cringes when she realizes her mother must have overheard her conversation with Quinn. But for once, she's relieved to have her mother jump to her defense.

"Well, of course I don't think this relationship is going to last!" her mother snaps. "Rachel is nineteen years old and a sophomore in college. How many relationships do you know that last which begin at that age? But how dare you say those things to her?! You know she takes everything you say to heart!"

Rachel bristles a little that her mother thinks she and Quinn aren't going to last, but she continues onward toward the kitchen.

By the time she gets back into her bedroom, her mother is full-fledged yelling and her daddy is yelling so loud that Rachel can _hear_ it over the phone through the closed bedroom door.

"What's going on?" Quinn asks, eyes wide when Rachel gets back into the room.

"My mom is arguing with daddy," Rachel explains grimly. "She must have overheard us…" she turns on some music to try to drown out the sound of her mother yelling.

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door and Rachel knows it's Audrey.

"Come in."

Audrey pads inside.

"Can I hang for a while?" she asks softly.

"Sure," Rachel says.

Audrey's room shares a wall with their mother's. Incidentally, Audrey's room also shares a wall with their fathers at their house. This type of volatile arguing over the phone was common when they were growing up. When Audrey was little, she used to come into Rachel's room to escape the sound of parental arguments, even if they usually only heard one side of it.

Audrey joins them on the bed and Rachel wraps her arm around Audrey's shoulder as Audrey snuggles into her.

"What are they fighting about now?"

"It doesn't matter," Rachel says.

They chat for a bit, and eventually, their mother quiets down. But by then, Audrey has fallen asleep.

Exasperated, Rachel sighs, but gets up.

"I'm going to take her to her room. Can you get the door for me?" she asks Quinn.

"Sure," Quinn responds. "But how are you…oh."

Rachel hauls her sister up in a fireman's carry just liked she used to do when they were kids and Quinn quickly runs to open her door and then to open Audrey's bedroom door. Quinn pulls back the blankets in Audrey's bed and Rachel sets her down. Rachel touches her hand to Audrey's cheek and smiles.

Her sister is a _brat_ and there are days when Rachel actively hates her. Audrey has been in a real snit this entire visit home and Rachel is a little resentful of that. But Rachel knows if anything ever happened to her kid sister, she would not be able to bear it.

Once they're back in her room, Rachel hugs Quinn hard. "Now that you've met my family, are you really sure you want to date me exclusively?" she says it like it's a joke, but she's actually giving Quinn an out.

Quinn's eyes are very serious. "I only want you."

\--

Quinn is a little fragile after everything that transpires that night, so once the lights are off and they are in bed, she cries a little and Rachel feels horrible for making her girlfriend cry.

Quinn eventually falls asleep, but Rachel can't stop thinking about what her father said to her, or the way her mother jumped to her defense.

She gets out of bed to pad down to her mother's bedroom. The light is still on, which isn't uncommon. Her mother always had trouble sleeping after an argument with one of her fathers.

She opens the door and belatedly realizes she didn't knock. Knocking is second nature to her, so she doesn't know why she didn't bother to knock this time. But she doesn't and it's already too late because the door is open.

And then she sees her mom kissing her dad.

Rachel gasps and gapes at them, and she gets big-eyed.

They fly apart.

"Holy shit," Rachel exclaims, in a rare moment of cursing.

\--

Shelby walks to the door and yanks Rachel inside and shuts the door.

Rachel stares at her dad. And then her mother. And then back to her dad.

What. The Hell.

\--

No one speaks for a few minutes, and it feels like an eternity-- all they can do is stare at one another.

Then Rachel finds her voice.

"Um, dad? You're still….gay, right?"

He gives her a small smile. "Bisexual, sweetheart. Sexuality is fluid."

\--

She actually has to sit down to hear what they have to say. 'Stunned' doesn't even begin to cover it.

\--

"When I was pregnant with you, Pete and I became very close," her mother tells her, her voice unusually filled with trepidation. Shelby glances at Peter seemingly to ask for his approval.

"We fell in love," Peter admits quietly, squeezing Shelby's hand.

"Yes," Shelby says with a sigh.

"But I loved your father," Peter tells Rachel. "So much. I couldn't leave him." He pauses to look at Shelby. "Though I thought about it. Your mother and I had discussions about what it would be like, just the two of us, raising you."

"Wow," Rachel says quietly.

Looking back on it, her mother primarily fought with her daddy, not with her dad. That makes a lot more sense now.

"But I just could not leave your father," Peter says softly. "So Shelby and I came clean about our affair and your father…" he sighs. "He wanted you so much, baby. Shelby and I stopped seeing one another-- before you were even born, and that's when your father and I made your mother sign the contract that she would have no involvement in your life until you were eighteen."

"But I wanted you," Shelby says quietly. "I signed it. Under duress," she adds pointedly, looking at Peter who looks away. "But I wanted you." She smiles wistfully. "I didn't even get to hold you after I delivered you," she says quietly. Shelby shuts her eyes at the memory of her baby being taken away instead of handed to her. She'd screamed "give her to me! Please! Give her to me! Let me hold her just once!" to no avail. "I didn't get to hold you until after Audrey was born," she says, glancing at Peter with remembered resentment.

"Your father was understandably very angry," Peter says quietly. "He wanted us to be a family-- you, me and him. Having Shelby involved wasn't part of his life plan. Please don't judge him too harshly for that."

"And Audrey?" Rachel whispered. "Did she…I mean…was she conceived…you know… the natural way?"

Peter and Shelby wince.

"Yes, she was," Peter admits. "We had a moment of weakness after you were born. Your mother missed you so much and--"

"I begged your fathers to help me have another baby, one I could keep," Shelby interjects quietly. "I was relentless. You know how I can be."

"Yes," Rachel and her father say together. They share small smiles, but the matter is very serious, so they quickly become serious again.

"Your father agreed to it just to silence her," Peter tells Rachel. "He thought once she was pregnant, she would just go away. Your mother was so happy when he said yes…" he trails off. "Well, things happened between your mother and me."

Rachel makes a face. These aren't things she wants to know about her parents, but now that she knows a little, she needs to know everything.

"Once your mother was pregnant with Audrey, your father started to become attached to that pregnancy as well," Peter says quietly. "But he was still on the fence about raising you and Audrey as sisters until Audrey was born." He smiles fondly. "The moment Audrey was born, we compromised. Your mother could have access to you, and we could have access to Audrey, and we would have limited contact with one another."

"I thought you guys hated each other," Rachel says softly, looking from her father to her mother

"Well, your other father actually does hate me," Shelby says.

"I had to make a choice, sweetheart. As much as I cared for your mother, I chose you, your sister and your father. Your father is understandably very bitter when it comes to your mother."

Shelby sighs. "You can't fault him, I can't say I would have taken it any better."

"But why are you here _tonight_?"

"I had a…discussion with John tonight," Shelby murmurs.

"It was a fight," Rachel says wryly. "I heard it." She pauses. "Thank you for defending me and Quinn to him, by the way."

"Your mom and I agree that your father was out of line," Peter says quietly. "And you know that typically, as a matter of principle, I side with him. It was very volatile. I just wanted to check on your mother."

"By _kissing_ her?" Rachel asked pointedly.

"We got carried away," Shelby admits.

"So you aren't together now?" Rachel asks quietly.

"God, no," Shelby says. "This was a mistake, sweetheart. I'm so sorry you had to find out."

"Please don't tell your father we told you," Peter says softly. "And don't tell your sister either. He never wanted either of you girls to know."

"I won't," Rachel promises.

"And please don't tell him about…" Shelby gestures vaguely between herself and Peter.

"I won't," Rachel says quietly.

Shelby cups Rachel's cheek. "We're sorry we have to ask you to do this," she says softly. "But you understand why, don't you?"

Rachel nods silently.

Shelby smiles at her and Rachel smiles back.

"I'm sorry you and daddy got into a fight over me," Rachel says quietly.

"Rachel, he was _wrong_ ," Shelby says strongly. "You should be as open as you want with Quinn."

"Your mom is right," Peter says. "I understand where your father is coming from-- please know he's not coming from a bad place. He wants to protect you and secure your future . But he was wrong to say those things to you. It was unacceptable. I'm so proud of having daughters who aren't afraid to be themselves. "

"Thanks, dad," Rachel says quietly, because that actually means a lot.

"I know the three of us have not been perfect parents," Peter says. "But we all agree that you and Audrey are the best things that ever happened to any of us. And we all just want the best for you two."

Rachel swallows hard. "I never doubted that, dad," she says quietly.

"Go to sleep, baby," Shelby says gently, tapping her fingers across Rachel's cheek.

"Okay."

\--

She doesn't sleep at all that night.

\--

They leave the next afternoon and she feels kind of sad as she hugs each of her parents before she gets into her mom's car so her mom can drop her, Quinn and Audrey off at the airport.

The three of them fly back to LA and they cab it to Rachel's apartment so she can spend some time with her sister before her sister has to take the train down to San Diego since Rachel initially picked Audrey up so her sister wouldn't have to drive up when she's distraught over the loss of their grandmother.

Once she's alone with Quinn, she cuddles close to the blonde.

"My family is _so_ screwed up," Rachel says quietly.

Quinn laughs gently. "They gave me you, so I really can't complain."

Rachel laughs softly and pulls Quinn close before she tells the blonde everything she just found out about her family. But she's perversely happy that at least one of her fathers and her mother like one another. She starts to feel the burden of keeping a secret from her sister and their other father. She'll keep the secret to preserve the tenuous peace of their family, but it already starting to weigh on her, so she's not sure how she'll handle it later on.

But for now, she takes a deep calming breath, relieved to be back in her adopted city with the girl she loves at her side.


	5. Chapter 5

The Spring Quarter has been in session for a few weeks and things are more or less status quo, which Rachel appreciates.

Summer vacation is looming over them and Rachel knows that Quinn's lease on the apartment that she shares with Hope is almost up. She contemplates asking Quinn to move in with her, but it feels too soon and she doesn't want to scare Quinn away. Quinn reassures her all the time that her feelings are mutual, but Rachel is still uncertain and she doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize the relationship she considers to be one of her most important.

When Memorial Day weekend comes around, they toss around the idea of taking their trip up to San Francisco, but the truth is that they're both a little strapped for cash, so they nix the idea.

Still, Rachel wants to try to make it special because she still feels guilty their Spring Break was so…unholy.

\--

The Friday that sets off Memorial Day weekend isn't very busy for either of them, at least, not in the afternoon. Rachel has a show to play in the evening, but it's just the 10pm-11pm spot, so they have most of the afternoon and early evening to spend together.

Rachel's last class of the day gets out at 10am and then she has a shift at Student Health answering phones. She's out by 3pm, by which time Quinn is done with classes as well.

After Rachel clocks out, she runs as fast as she can across campus to meet Quinn who is just exiting the building.

Rachel spots Quinn and slows down to a trot. She can't help grin at the sight of her girlfriend, pulling out her phone and looking around for her. Rachel puts her fingers to her mouth and tries to whistle to get Quinn's attention, though she really has no idea what she's thinking because she's never been able to do it before, so what would make her think she can do that now?

It comes out in an anemic wheeze.

A text message from Quinn appears _Just got out of class, will wait for you in front_ and Rachel grins dopily. Rachel runs toward her girlfriend, resting her hand on Quinn's back to get her attention.

Quinn whips around and beams at her. Quinn's arms are thrown out and Rachel is enveloped in a warm, tight hug as Quinn rocks her to-and-fro. Quinn's breath tickles her ear and Quinn's hair tickles the side of her neck.

Rachel brushes a kiss to Quinn's cheek and then she links arms with Quinn.

"Hey beautiful," Rachel greets as they walk towards her car.

"Hi gorgeous," Quinn murmurs.

\--

They pick up some takeaways for a late lunch and eat as they sit cross-legged in her bed.

They end up falling asleep soon after that-- food comas and all that. She feels ridiculous for taking a nap like she's some kindergartner.

\--

She wakes up because Quinn yelps.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks blearily.

"You just kicked me," Quinn says wryly.

Rachel's eyes pop open and she sits up. There's still light coming in through the window so she doesn't need to turn on a light to see. "Where?"

Quinn rubs her thigh and Rachel sits up, and leans her head down so she can kiss it.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel says sincerely. She rubs at the bare skin, wishing Quinn had worn pants instead of a skirt so that her girlfriend could have been more protected from her inadvertent abuse.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Quinn asks quietly. "You seemed…stressed out."

Rachel shakes her head. "It's nothing important."

She has this recurring dream since she was a small child-- if she were to describe it to anyone, more than likely, they'd call it a nightmare but she's had it for so long, she's used to it. She's not disturbed or bothered by it anymore. In the dream, it's her wedding day, but it doesn't end well because she ends up flat on her back with these figures hovering over her, one of whom has his hands around her neck. The older she gets, the more violent they became, so they vary, but the basics are always the same. Rachel can't say she's bothered by it, but she's not exactly okay with it either. She's had it a few times since she's dated Quinn and she's ended up kicking Quinn more than once. The fact she's kicked Quinn because of them actually bothers her more that the dreams themselves, despite how increasingly violent they're becoming.

"Are you sure?"

"It's nothing," Rachel assures, she kisses Quinn's thigh again and rubs it gently. "Does it hurt?"

Quinn smiles. "It doesn't hurt."

"Good," Rachel breathes, relieved.

She idly begins rubbing her hands up and down Quinn's inner thigh, reveling in how smooth and silky Quinn's skin feels.

"You're so beautiful," Rachel murmurs. "You are so perfect." She leans her head down again to kiss up the length of Quinn's inner thigh.

Quinn makes a strangled, guttural noise. "Rach…Rach…baby. If you're going to do that…I-- ah, I…I…" Quinn trails off, blushing.

Rachel smiles against Quinn's skin, and ignoring the slight pleading in her girlfriend's voice continues to press slightly wet kisses against Quinn's inner thigh.

She trades off between Quinn's left and right inner thighs for a while until Quinn releases a shuddered breath.

"Take of my underwear, please," Quinn begs.

Rachel tilts her head back to regard Quinn for a moment and then obliges, slowly taking off Quinn's underwear which has been soaked through.

Rachel drapes Quinn's legs over her shoulder so that Quinn's ankles touch her back.

"Hey," Rachel says softly.

"Hey," Quinn says, her voice breathy.

Rachel breathes her in and sighs softly.

"I really love you," Rachel murmurs before she dips her head between Quinn's legs. Quinn's breathing hitches as Rachel begins to lick.

Quinn presses her hand over her mouth, her moans swallowed by her hand. Rachel grins with fond smugness as the heels of Quinn's feet slam into her back-- that means she's doing a good job.

\--

She relishes in the breathy whimpers she elicits from Quinn almost as much as she relishes in the taste of Quinn on her lips.

Quinn is soaked and she comes with a hoarse cry, drenching Rachel's face. Rachel gives each of the blonde's inner thighs a quick lick for a final taste.

"Take off your clothes," Quinn breathes, her voice hoarse. "Please," she pleads. "I want to see you."

Rachel shucks off her shirt and bra and then pulls off her skirt and underwear while Quinn discards her own shirt and bra.

Sex is not new to them, but there is just something about facing someone completely naked that still makes Rachel self-conscious. She's not afraid of ridicule (not anymore, anyway). But it's still an experience that makes Rachel a bit emotional. .

"Hi," Rachel says, biting her lip and suddenly feeling shy. She can't quite meet Quinn's eyes.

Quinn smiles warmly. "Hi," she says. She reaches out to affectionately ruffle Rachel's hair. "Come closer," she whispers softly.

Rachel obliges.

\--

They've never done _this_ before-- Rachel's read about it and researched it both through instructional, clinical literature and through porn. But she's never actually done it before now.

Quinn brings her closer and then flips them.

Rachel finds herself on her back, and Quinn straddling her.

"Hey beautiful," Quinn whispers.

"Hey gorgeous," Rachel whispers back.

Quinn shifts while still in a seated position and Rachel gasps when she feels the wet folds of Quinn's pussy collide with her own. Rachel is acutely aware of how aroused Quinn is as the wetness between Quinn's legs mingles with her own. When Quinn begins rubbing herself against Rachel by rocking her hips, Rachel cannot help a loud moan tearing from her throat.

She's heard about how amazing this feels, but she never imagined how good until now.

She hears Quinn breathing heavily and oh _God_ , she feels Quinn's clit rub against her own.

Rachel mumbles incoherently because it's not a feeling she can ever describe with any specificity, other that it feels so, so good. Almost too good if such a thing is possible. She's just so overwhelmed.

"You feel so good," Quinn moans. " _God_."

Rachel bites her lip, but it's not enough to prevent a moan escape her throat. They're both so wet, it's _audible_ as they rub against each other, which somehow makes the whole thing hotter. The rubbing becomes more frenetic and they are both so _close_ to coming.

"Please, baby," Rachel begs, her voice rough with her need for release. She moans gutturally as a particularly delicious slide of wet flesh against wet flesh makes her toes curl. "Oh God."

It becomes silent between them save for harsh breaths and low moans and Rachel knows if she can just last a little longer, at this rate, she and Quinn can come together.

Finally, their clits rub together for what feels like an _eternity_ and then Rachel becomes unraveled. She's breathing in harsh gasps because she's feeling it build and then it just hits her-- and it last so long, this delicious feeling enveloping her whole body. Dimly, she's aware that Quinn cries out at the same moment she does and seconds later, Quinn is lying next to her, breathing heavily. They're both covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but Rachel doesn't care, she clutches onto Quinn in a tight hug.

"Oh my _God_." Rachel whimpers. "God," she breathes.

That was _amazing_ and Rachel's vision is still cloudy.

"God," Quinn echoes.

Rachel turns to Quinn and their lips meet in an urgent, heated kiss.

\--

They stay curled up in bed with one another until Rachel has to regretfully get up to get ready for her gig. She can't believe she thought she and Quinn would have plenty of time together just because she has the 10-11pm spot-- all she wants to do is stay in bed with Quinn for the rest of the weekend.

But she has obligations.

Then she thinks about how she and Quinn spent the afternoon and she tingles as she thinks about how it felt to have Quinn's pussy rubbing against hers and she feels wet all over again. She really contemplates canceling her gig, but she doesn't.

She curses herself for being overly responsible because all she wants to do is to put her mouth between Quinn's legs. She recognizes that she's thinking like some horny teenage boy, but she really doesn't care.

\--

She and Quinn enter the club, although it's with a bit of reluctance because though she's performing, she wishes she could be back in bed with Quinn. Preferably naked.

But she still needs to be there in time for setting up and then her sound check.

She has a table near the stage reserved for Quinn, Santana and Brittany, and when she and Quinn walk into the bar area, Quinn flashes her fake ID and Rachel has to unhappily wear a neon green wristband around to denote the fact that though she's the talent, she's also underage.

"Finally!" Santana says when they arrive at the table. "Jesus, Berry. We've been here an hour and we had to hear some bitch singing about her hands and coffee growing cold, like she can't fucking put her hands in her pocket and fucking drink her coffee before it gets cold."

"Santana!" Rachel scolds, glancing around to make sure the performer in question isn't in earshot.

Rachel's showed up right when she to set up, so she gets to work right away while Quinn takes a seat at their reserved table.

Rachel thinks about the afternoon she's had with Quinn and she can't resist grinning, feeling a little cocky and self-satisfied. She is in a _really_ good mood.

Once she's up on stage, Rachel feels blessed to be up there and have her girl waiting for her in the audience

\--

For her last song, Rachel makes the impromptu choice to play a cover of a Hawksley Workman song instead of one of her own.

_"What Jesus can't fix tonight, the whiskey certainly might. I must have said the Lord's Prayer 65 times. The thought of your face, our infinite grace…all the ways to behold you until the tide will I wait…_

The song is called 'Even an Ugly Man' and she feels it's apt for her and Quinn, though she can concede that she's being a tad low self-esteemy.

She finishes up, and accepts her applause. Any time Santana and Brittany come out to see her play, Santana always screams "show me your tits!" at her at the close of her last song. But this night, Santana chooses to scream, "your tits are poppin', Berry!" instead.

Rachel has to admit she appreciates Santana diversifying. "Thank you, Santana," she says lowly into the microphone while her audience laughs.

She smiles wryly when Santana blows her a kiss.

Rachel catches Quinn's eyes. Quinn smiles at her.

Rachel smiles back and waves.

Quinn looks around to see if anyone is looking at her and then quickly holds her index and third finger of her right hand, formed in a 'V' up to her face and makes a lewd gesture with her tongue. Even from her vantage point, Rachel can see that Quinn turns bright pink from embarrassment. Quinn looks around to see if anyone saw her do that and Rachel can almost see the wheels turning in her girlfriend's head.

Rachel laughs heartily.

\--

Quinn follows her home that night, and Rachel once again wants to ask her "will you move in with me?" because she knows that a girl who would make an uncharacteristically vulgar gesture simulating cunningulus just to make her laugh is a keeper.

But Rachel refrains despite the fact the school year will soon come to a close which means Quinn's lease will be up. Quinn spends more of her time at Rachel's apartment than her own, but Rachel knows such a logical argument like 'you're here most of the time anyway' is not romantic enough to ask the girl she loves to take such an enormous step with her, especially since they only recently decided to be exclusive.

\--

The next morning, she goes for her run and then stops in at 24 Hour Fitness to take advantage of the elliptical and weight machines. By the time she gets back to her apartment, Quinn is gone to a doctor's appointment.

Rachel misses her, but she knows she needs Quinn's absence to get her apartment ready.

\--

By the time Quinn comes back, Rachel has printed up and posted pictures of Cancun all around her apartment. Her living room has been transformed into the beach and her bedroom is the cabana. She purchased a small inflatable child's pool earlier in the week and sand, so she inflates the rubber pool, fills it with sand and sets it in the living room and then puts in two lawn chairs she purchased at Target into the rubber pool.

She's never been in a cabana before, so she uses Google to get an idea of what to do with her bedroom. She changes the sheets first to her whitest, crispest with the highest threadcount-- she washed them the day before while Quinn was asleep and they still smell like laundry detergent. She gets creative and uses the four posts of her bed and a hook in her ceiling which was supposed to be for ceiling plants to make a canopy for her bed.

She knows the effort is kind of lame and that it doesn't make up for the fact that Quinn gave up Cancun to come home with her to Lima, but she wants to give Quinn an approximation of Cancun until she can take Quinn herself, one day. She puts up flowers-- mostly roses and jasmine around her apartment for fragrance but she gets a bouquet of wildflowers for Quinn because those are her preference. She also buys some calla lilies to put in a vase on her nightstand because of their alleged resemblance to female genitals which Rachel simply does _not_ see, but whatever, it's supposed to be sensual and that is what she's going for.

She's cooking paella when Quinn finally comes home from her doctor's appointment.

"Sorry I took so long!" Quinn calls. "I had to stop by my apartment. I went to Target on my way here and I had to stop to drop stuff off and pick stuff up."

Quinn pauses when she sees the rubber wading pool filled with sand in the middle of Rachel's living room.

"What's going on?" Quinn asks quietly.

Rachel runs to her. "Cancun on a Poor Girl's budget," she says with a small smile.

Quinn's eyes are wide. "What are you talking about?" she asks. "Are you still on that? Rach, your grandmother _died_ , there was no way I was going to go to Cancun without you."

"I know," Rachel says quietly. "But I still want to make it up to you."

"You didn't have to," Quinn says softly.

"I did," Rachel says firmly. She smiles and takes Quinn by the hand and plucks the overnight bag from Quinn's other hand. "I'm your tour guide," she murmurs. She points to the kiddie pool filled with sand. "As you can see, senorita, that's the beach."

"I do see," Quinn says with a chuckle.

"And that's the ocean," Rachel says, pointing to the pictures on the wall of blue water. "I'm sorry, my lady, but you came right in the middle of monster jellyfish season and so you cannot go into the water, but it is very pretty to look at," she says with a straight face.

Quinn bursts into laughter. "Monster jellyfish?"

Rachel grins impishly, but she keeps her voice serious. "Yes, my lady. Monster jellyfish and enormous man-sized king crabs. There is an infestation."

"Really?" Quinn manages, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter.

"My lady, I assure you monster jelly fish and enormous man-sized king crabs are no joke."

Quinn giggles but nods gravely. "I see."

Rachel pulls Quinn into her bedroom. "And this is your cabana," she murmurs.

Quinn stares up at the makeshift canopy. "Wow," she says softly. "Rachel…"

Rachel smiles. "Please follow me, my lady, to our dining room where your lunch awaits you."

"Baby, you _really_ didn't have to do all this," Quinn says quietly.

"Nonsense, my lady," Rachel says. "This is all part of your hotel package. We would be fleecing you if we did not offer all these amenities and we are very reputable."

Quinn chuckles softly and pulls Rachel into a hug so they are face-to-face. Quinn buries her face into Rachel's neck.

"Marry me," Quinn breathes into Rachel's skin.

Rachel freezes, but the way Quinn says it doesn't sound like she's actually asking for real, more like it's mostly in jest.

Still, Rachel strokes Quinn's hair and whispers. "One day."

\--

Once Quinn is seated, Rachel serves her. In truth, she went a little overboard with the food, but she got her recipes from the FoodTV network website and all of it was fairly easy and basic to make, so it's not a big deal. In addition to the seafood paella is salad, garlic-and-tomato toast, corn fritters and peach-basil margaritas. For non-alcoholic beverage option, she also made a pitcher of mint basil lemonade because Rachel did not want to make it seem like she was trying to liquor up Quinn.

"I was wondering why you had so much seafood in your fridge," Quinn confesses. "But I thought you were going to have people over for dinner this weekend."

"Just you," Rachel replies. "This weekend, I just want to spend time with you."

\--

By the time they're done eating, Rachel knows she's made a grievous miscalculation because she and Quinn are both so full, they're like bloated ticks.

She's managed to check off her entire list except for the most important one-- sexy times.

"I hate you," Quinn groans, clutching her stomach.

"Well," Rachel says. "No one told you to eat that last corn fritter like some kind of glutton."

Quinn is not so full that she can't smack Rachel's belly.

Rachel groans. "Baby," she whines because it didn't hurt, but it did remind her of how full she is.

"Why are you such a good cook?" Quinn demands. "And what was up with all that seafood, vegan princess? Couldn't you suck at cooking, so that I would just eat a little bit to be polite to not hurt your feelings instead of inhaling everything in sight like a heifer? God, I'm a moose right now."

"I feel more like a tick," Rachel offers. "Eeeee eeee," she groans, wiggling her arms and legs in the air in what she believes is very tick-like fashion.

Unable to help herself, Quinn laughs and props herself up on her elbows, though she remains on her belly. She reaches for her phone. "How again?" she asks.

Rachel knows she's being filmed, but she does it again anyway, which makes Quinn laugh, so Rachel has to smile.

Quinn kisses Rachel's forehead. "Did you mean it when you said one day you'd marry me?" whispers.

Rachel smiles slowly, and her smile goes wide. "Of course I did."

\--

Once they recover from their heavy meal, they take a bath together. Rachel sits behind Quinn as she massages shampoo into Quinn's scalp.

"That feels so good. I love it when they do that when I get my hair done."

"There is nothing quite like it," Rachel agrees.

Rachel wishes her bathtub were a little bigger, but at the same time, it's cozy because it's so small. Once she washes the shampoo out of Quinn's hair she squirts body wash on one of her hands and rubs them together. She begins rubbing her hands over Quinn's neck dragging her hands down over Quinn's chest and then caressing Quinn's breasts.

Quinn's breathing hitches.

"I don't want to ruin this moment," Rachel murmurs into Quinn's ear. "I meant it when I said I'd marry you one day. It's been my intent from the very start. But I'm also a realist and I know it's possible we might not last."

Quinn immediately begins to protest.

"But," Rachel says, pushing onward. "That thought makes me very sad," she whispers. "And I know myself well enough to know that if we ever break up, I will get very spiteful and ugly, because I can't imagine ever wanting to let you go."

"I don't want to let you go, either," Quinn protests.

"I know," Rachel murmurs. "But I want to warn you about me-- I can get very ugly when my heart has been broken and if we ever break up, I will say ugly, terrible things to you because that's the kind of person I am. But I want you to know…if I say those things to you, it will be a lie. Because you are…" Rachel sighs deeply. "The most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on," she murmurs, kissing Quinn's neck. "You're the kindest, sweetest person I've ever met. You're the _best_ person I know," Rachel whispers, nipping at Quinn's neck, eliciting a breathy moan from the blonde. "And if I _ever_ tell you different, I'm lying. And if I _ever_ make you feel otherwise, the problem will be me, not you. _This_ much I can promise you."

Quinn swallows hard. "Let's get into bed, okay?"

"I…I wasn't trying to bed you," Rachel stammers. "I--"

"Let's get into bed," Quinn cuts off gently.

They finish washing up. After the bath, they have a quick shower since baths are essentially a person stewing in his or her own filth, and then Rachel follows Quinn into the bedroom.

With the crispness of the sheets and the slight breeze coming in through the open window along with scent of the flowers scattered throughout the room, everything feels _perfect_.

"Who needs Cancun?" Quinn breathes, pushing Rachel onto the bed.

Rachel grins. "This weekend I am your personal cabana girl."


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the school year passes unremarkably, and Rachel never finds the nerve to ask Quinn to move in with her, so Quinn announces her plan to find an apartment of her own.

Rachel can see that parting ways with Hope makes Quinn extremely sad. It makes Rachel sad, too, because both she and Quinn individually befriended Hope before everything blew up in their faces, so Rachel does not want to lose Hope as a friend.

She texts Hope after Quinn breaks the news to her just to let Hope know that she will always have a standing invitation to the weekly group dinners Rachel hosts at her apartment. Hope texts her back with a smiley face emoticon and a 'I know, thank-you,' but Rachel can't help feeling like maybe Hope is just blowing her off.

She hopes not.

\--

She and Quinn both enroll in the first session of summer school that year, and Rachel is glad to have more time with Quinn before the blonde has to go home to Austin for a few weeks.

She helps Quinn move into her new apartment, and even though moving is one of the most tedious tasks known to man, somehow they make it fun, so they end up giggling more than anything else.

\--

After the first session of summer school ends, Rachel chooses to follow Quinn home to Austin for a week despite the offers from various venues to book her. Her career is important to her, but Quinn means everything, and Rachel doesn’t think she is sacrificing anything by choosing to spend time with her girlfriend and her family rather than getting on stage.

When she tells her daddy, he doesn’t seem to view it the same way and she regrets telling him at all. She only tells him because after her visit in Austin, she plans to fly onward (solo) to home so she can see her family. Her mother’s words about wishing she would come home more resonate with her and Rachel wants to get a chance to spend time with her family while she can. She realizes her grandmother was elderly, but Nana D’s death is a constant reminder that life is precious and she should spend time with her family while she can.

She knows her father is genuinely just trying to watch out for her—he’s always been overprotective of her, has always been the parent who took an outsider’s criticism of her more personally than she did. Even though he freely criticizes her, seemingly with no consideration of her feelings, anytime anyone has criticizes her, he tends to try to defend her with his figurative (and sometimes literal) fists swinging.

It’s going to be difficult for Quinn to win daddy over, but Rachel knows they will have plenty of time for it. She’s not really worried about it because she knows her father—he will try to undermine her relationship with Quinn before he will come around to grudging acceptance. Eventually, he will see what she sees in Quinn and Rachel knows he will adore Quinn almost as much as she does. All it will take is time.

But having her father actually harrumph when she admits that yes, she was offered a few spots at various venues, but she’s choosing to follow Quinn to Austin anyway, is very disheartening.

\--

When Quinn and Rachel land at the airport in Texas, Quinn receives a text from her sister indicating that rather than Quinn’s mother picking them up as planned, Quinn’s sister, Zoey, is picking them up instead.

This immediately makes Rachel a little wary because despite the fact Quinn and Zoey are not close, Zoey is still an older sibling. Rachel is an older sister as well and she can sense that she’s about to be scoped out by Quinn’s older sister and she’s honestly a little scared. She’s done the same with some of the boys her sister has dated seriously. She doesn’t waste her time with each boy that Audrey dates because she knows sometimes Audrey just wants to have fun, like with her current boyfriend. But if Audrey indicated she had strong feelings for someone, Rachel would definitely put them through a rigorous vetting process, and she suspects she’s about to go through one with Zoey.

\--

Rachel is accustomed to people making comments about her mother’s genes—she and Audrey definitely take after their mother. After meeting Judy Fabray, Rachel has a good idea of what Quinn will look like in another twenty years or so. After meeting Zoey, Rachel has an idea of what Quinn will look like in the near future. Just like her own mother would never be able to deny maternity of her and Audrey, Quinn’s mother would never be able to deny maternity of Zoey or Quinn. Quinn once told her that Zoey was embarrassed of her growing up when Quinn was going through an awkward phase and denied their relationship, but Rachel is not sure how Zoey was able to do that because Rachel sees Zoey before Quinn does and she knows right away that is Quinn’s sister. Despite the fact that Zoey is in a moving car pulling up to the curb in front of the airport terminal.

Gently, Rachel nudges her girlfriend.

Quinn spins around and sees her sister pulling up. Quinn smiles nervously and Rachel squeezes her girlfriend’s hand because she knows Zoey still intimidates her. Sometimes, Rachel’s heart aches for her girlfriend because as much as her family gives her headaches, she can’t imagine being intimidated by a member of her family the way Quinn is by her sister.

They load everything in the car and Quinn tries to get into the backseat with Rachel, but Zoey scowls.

“Quinn, do I look like Morgan Freeman to you? I’m not a chauffeur, and you aren't Miss Daisy, so get up here with me.”

With anyone else, Quinn would have had a snippy rejoinder but instead Quinn just gets into the front seat without another word.

Once Quinn settles in, Zoey turns in her seat and looks at Rachel.

“Hey,” Zoey says. “I’m Zoey.”

“Hi,” Rachel says softly. “I’m Rachel.”

Zoey smiles crookedly. “I figured.”

\--

It’s quiet on the drive to Quinn’s mother’s house. When they pull up front, Zoey puts the car into park and takes a deep breath.

“Look, mom is going to tell you something you might not like. And I’m going to tell you first because you know how mom always fucks it up when she tries to sugarcoat things.”

Rachel can see her girlfriend through the reflection in the passenger side mirror and Quinn’s eyes are wide with alarm.

“What’s going on?” Quinn asks, her voice hushed.

“Mom ran into dad at an AA meeting,” Zoey starts.

“Oh my God, are they back together again?” Quinn asks and Rachel sees real fear etched on Quinn’s face. "Is he going to be in the house? Is he moving back in? Oh my God."

Rachel’s fists clench at the prospect.

“No, not that bad,” Zoey says. “But I guess mom forgave him and now they’re friends or something. They've been spending time together, but mom _swears_ it's platonic and now he wants to see us.”

There’s bitterness in Zoey’s voice and Rachel can’t blame her because she knows what Russell’s abandonment did to the family.

“Oh…o-okay,” Quinn says quietly. “I…I’d like that.”

Zoey’s eyebrows raise in surprise and she scowls. “I thought we were in sync about this.”

“It’s never really come up before though,” Quinn says quietly. “He’s never asked to see us. Not since he left. Aren’t you curious?”

Zoey snorts in derision. “Quinn. He obviously wants something from us. If he’s going to AA, he probably needs a new liver or kidney or something and expects us to donate or something.”

“But--”

“No buts, Quinn. I already told mom I’m not seeing him and you shouldn’t either. This is so typical of her-- she forgets about what he’s done to us and she just forgives him. Do you really think he asked to see us because suddenly he wants to be Dad of the Year?”

Rachel bites her lip and looks at Quinn. She doesn’t like the idea of Quinn seeing her father any more than Zoey does, but the way Zoey sounds so hostile and the way Quinn reacts to that--shoulders slumped, head hanging down so her chin nearly touches her chest; it sets Rachel on edge.

“Well, maybe we can just do lunch or something,” Quinn says quietly.

“No, no way,” Zoey says. “He’s a _dick_. And not only is he a dick, but he’s a bully. You’re an adult, you get to decide who is in your life. And _he_ made the choice to abandon us.”

“But--“

“No! How can you even want to see him considering what he did to you the night he left?”

Quinn curls away from her sister and seems to press as close to the door as she can. She looks so small to Rachel and Rachel reaches out from the backseat to put her hand on Quinn’s shoulder.

“He’s nothing, Q. Just write him off the way he wrote us off!”

“He’s still our father,” Quinn says quietly.

“You dummy,” Zoey says scornfully.

Rachel knows that in her own way, Zoey is just trying to be protective, but the way she’s so combative with Quinn is having an effect that Rachel does not like.

Quinn seems near tears.

“Leave her alone,” Rachel says.

Both Quinn and Zoey turn to look at her.

“Excuse me?” Zoey says, addressing her.

“Leave her alone,” Rachel says firmly. “She just wants to see your dad. That’s normal. I agree with you that he does not sound like a good person, but she’s an adult and can make her own choices. So leave her alone. Don’t talk to her like that.”

“You don’t know anything about it,” Zoey says flatly. “You have no idea what he’s capable of, or what he’s done.”

“I can concede that,” Rachel says quietly. She’s long suspected that what her girlfriend has disclosed to her barely scratches the surface of how horrible her father is. She doesn’t want Russell Fabray to even _think_ about Quinn, but she will support Quinn in whatever she decides for herself. “But don’t speak to her like that.”

Zoey looks displeased and it’s uncannily unsettling how Quinn gets a similar look on her face right before she’s about to lose it.

“Rach, baby, it’s okay,” Quinn says softly.

Rachel wants to protest, but she knows she’s already overstepped, so she just gives a slight nod before she says quietly, “if you want to see your dad, I’ll come with you if you wish.”

“Okay,” Quinn breathes with a big smile. “Okay, yes.”

“No,” Zoey says quietly, though her tone is firm. “No. If you insist on seeing him, _I’ll_ go with you, but I’m doing this for you. He can fuck himself.”

Quinn swallows visibly. “Okay.”

\--

Zoey goes back to work once they're settled in the house and Rachel and Quinn have a few hours to kill until Quinn's mother comes home from work.

Rachel feels the need to apologize once they are alone. She'd planned to be on her best behavior, to be as polite to Quinn's mother and sister as Quinn was to her family, but she just couldn't stand to see her girlfriend be trampled like that.

Family is complicated and Rachel knows sometimes it's better to not try to interfere.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says quietly once the door shuts behind Zoey.

Quinn blinks in confusion. "For what?"

Rachel winces. "For getting into it with your sister. I wasn't trying to be rude to her. It's just…"

"She has a strong personality," Quinn cuts off gently. "I'm used to it, but she can rub some people the wrong way."

"I shouldn't have interfered."

"No," Quinn says softly. "I-I'm glad you did."

Rachel smiles. "The offer still stands," she murmurs. "I'll go with you to see your dad."

Quinn looks apologetic. "I think I'd rather Zoey go with me. It's kind of a sister thing. I mean, if that's okay."

Rachel is a little hurt, but she also understands what Quinn means when she says 'it's kind of a sister thing,' because she has felt similarly with Audrey. "Of course it's okay."

\--

That night Rachel and Quinn have dinner with Judy, Zoey and Zoey's fiancé, Dan.

Rachel worries at first that Zoey will carry a grudge over their earlier skirmish but Quinn quickly reassures her that Zoey doesn't carry a grudge against anyone for more than a few minutes other than their father.

That does seem to be the case, because Zoey never brings it up and is overall pretty nice to her. Zoey is a little on the icy side, but that doesn't shock Rachel much.

But Rachel falls completely in love with Zoey's fiancé, Dan, who is just the sweetest guy.

He's tall and muscular and she immediately thinks he's handsome until she gets a slightly closer look and sees the slight asymmetry of his face. He's not as handsome as she initially thinks, but he smiles and Rachel can't help but smile back. Her favorite thing about him is the way he devotes attention to all of the Fabray women, but seems to have a soft spot for Quinn, in particular.

It makes sense, of course. Apparently Zoey and Dan were dating for years before they got engaged, and even before then, he'd asked Zoey multiple times before she finally agreed to marry him. It only makes sense he'd think of Quinn as his little sister, because he _dotes_ on her and that makes Rachel like him even more.

She thinks what a cute couple Zoey and Dan make because they are such opposites-- she with her blonde hair and hazel eyes and he with his dark hair and light blue eyes.

Quinn won't cop to it, but Rachel thinks Quinn really wants to be an aunt soon and any children that Zoey and Dan would have would be _adorable._ Rachel's just met them, but she's excited by the idea of those two having a brood of adorable children.

"I looked at your MySpace page," Dan tells her. "You're really good."

Rachel blushes. "Thank-you," she says sincerely.

Quinn gives Rachel a wide smile and then grins at Dan. "She gets like, thousands of plays a day!"

Although Rachel enjoys the attention, she wants to bring the focus back to her girlfriend and her family, so she smiles at Dan and Zoey. "Have you guys set a wedding date yet?"

"Not really," they answer together.

They smile at one another for a moment and Rachel can't help but smile, too, because when Zoey's face goes soft like that, she looks just like Quinn and of course, Rachel has a soft spot for all things Quinn.

"We're going to have to plan it around one of Quinn's breaks from school," Dan informs Rachel. "Because there's so much to do before the wedding with the bachelorette party, rehearsals, the wedding and all that. We want to be able to do all of it within a span of a couple weeks leading up to the wedding, so it'd have to be in either the summer or the winter."

"I'm invited to the bachelorette party?" Quinn asks, a grin beginning to spread across her face. With the eight year age difference between her and her sister, Quinn has never really been invited by Zoey to anything fun.

"Well, yeah. You're one of my bridesmaids, so you have to be there."

Quinn blinks. "I'm one of your bridesmaids? You never said anything. You never asked."

"You're my _sister_. I didn't think I had to ask. I thought it was just tradition."

Rachel wonders why Quinn isn't the maid of honor, but the sisters aren't close, and maybe Zoey has a best friend or something.

This actually does turn out to be the case, but Rachel can see how happy Quinn is to be one of her sister's bridesmaids. After Zoey and Dan got engaged on New Year's Day, Quinn had been unsure if she would have a role in the wedding party, and Rachel is glad to find that her girlfriend does.

"I want to be a bridesmaid," Quinn assures with a grin. "Thanks."

Zoey chuckles. "Well, don't say 'thanks' like you're some kind of retard. You're my sister."

Rachel's face pulls reflexively in distaste at the word 'retard.'

Everyone at the table notices and Quinn wraps her arm around Rachel's shoulder.

"Rachel doesn't like that word," Quinn explains.

"It _is_ derogatory and offensive," Dan agrees.

Zoey raises an eyebrow. "What are you, some kind of PC thug?" she asks, but she's smiling and not at all combative

Rachel chuckles. "Kind of," she jokes.

The truth is, growing up, she had a good friend with Down's Syndrome and any time someone called Becky a retard, Rachel could see how much Becky took that to heart. She lost touch with Becky after Becky's family moved to Washington D.C., but Rachel's aversion to the word 'retard' remains. She doesn't bring that up because she doesn't want to bring the mood down.

Somehow telling that story always makes her come off didactic and judgmental, when it really is just very matter-of-fact.

She doesn't understand why people would be surprised to learn that someone would be hurt when called an offensive name-- it seems fairly basic to her.

The rest of the dinner passes pretty well. Dan and Zoey drove separately to the restaurant since they came to the restaurant right after work. When Judy got off work, she returned to the house to pick Quinn and Rachel up so they could go to the restaurant. Dan and Zoey follow them home for coffee and dessert.

\--

Quinn's house is cozy-- way cozier than Rachel expected. When Rachel spent the afternoon there, she played a bit on the dusty piano and found it is out of tune. Rachel knows how to tune a piano-- she learned when she was fifteen and she thinks if she buys a tuning tool set in town, she can tune the piano before she leaves for Lima. It'll take a while, but she can do it.

There are family pictures scattered around the house and a family portrait with Quinn, Zoey and their mother hanging over the fireplace when Quinn was sixteen or so, but no pictures of Quinn before the age of fourteen. Rachel remembers Quinn telling her that Quinn destroyed most of her childhood pictures and it looks like Quinn was being serious. She thinks it's a pity if Quinn actually did, because she is certain Quinn is exaggerating her awkward phase with a huge dosage of body dysmorphia thrown in for good measure.

They make idle chit chat over a pumpkin cheesecake and coffee, but when their conversation reaches a natural lull, Judy turns to Dan and Rachel, who are seated next to one another on the couch, and smiles apologetically.

"I need to speak with Zoey and Quinn on a private matter. Dan, could you maybe take Rachel for a drive?"

Dan and Rachel exchange a look.

"Sure," Dan says finally.

"Mom, if this is about you and Dad running into one another at an AA meeting and now he wants to see us, Zoey already told me and Rachel already knows. You don't have to send her away," Quinn says.

"There's a little more I'd like to discuss with you first," Judy replies, glancing at Zoey in annoyance for breaking the news to Quinn before she could.

"I knew he wanted a kidney," Zoey mutters.

Judy stares blankly. "Pardon?"

"He wants a kidney, right?" Zoey asks. "Or bone marrow? Or part of a liver? I knew he had an ulterior motive. An eye? My heart? Stem cells from my unconceived embryo? What, mom? What does he want?"

"Babe," Dan murmurs, putting a calming hand on her knee.

Zoey relaxes a fraction. On the other side of Rachel, Quinn grabs the brunette's hand and squeezes.

"But he wants something, right?" Quinn asks, disappointed. "That's the only reason he wants to see us, right?"

"I'd really like to talk to you girls privately," Judy hedges.

Quinn and Zoey glance across Rachel and Dan to look at one another.

"Okay," Zoey agrees. She nudges Dan's knee. "You and Rachel should go pick up a pizza."

"Zoey," Judy scolds. "We _just_ ate."

"I'm an emotional eater, mom," Zoey deadpans.

"That's not healthy, Zoey. You're getting older and it's much harder to lose weight as you get older because of changes in your meta--"

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm getting married to someone who likes thicker girls. Dan, go pick up a pizza, okay? With everything."

"Okay," Dan agrees amiably. He stands up and offers his arm to Rachel.

Rachel glances at Quinn who nods slightly.

"It's okay," Quinn assures.

"O-okay," Rachel stammers. She gets up and takes Dan's arm and they leave the house together.

\--

They drive around for a bit instead of getting the pizza.

"She probably won't want it," Dan explains. "She's not really an emotional eater. She just likes to look at food when she's emotional. We waste a lot of food. She'll text me if she really wants it."

Rachel chuckles softly because that's one more thing Quinn and Zoey seem to have in common.

"What do you think their mom is going to tell them?" Rachel asks quietly because he would know the family better than she would.

"I don't know," Dan admits. "Probably something not too good. I never met their dad-- he'd already booked it by the time Zoey and I met. But he sounds like a piece of crap."

"What did Zoey tell you about him?"

Dan's hands clench on the steering wheel. "That he was a cheating, abusive alcoholic," he says bluntly. "I don't want my girl anywhere near him so I think you should really talk to yours about dropping the idea of seeing him. Because the only reason Zoey would ever be around him is if Quinn insisted on it."

Rachel is a little miffed at his tone, but she can see where he's coming from. "Quinn makes her own decisions," Rachel says bluntly "And I don't know enough about anything to tell her what to do."

She can sense his temper deflate.

"I know. Sorry," he says.

"I don't want her to do it either," Rachel admits.

They drive around for an hour and Rachel finds out more about him in that hour than she knows about most people she's known for all of her life. He's a decent man and Rachel's glad that no matter what happens between her and Quinn, he will be the protective older brother Quinn never had.

Zoey never texts him to actually get the pizza, so they head back to the Fabray house without it.

Rachel believes fully that every place has an emotional atmosphere. Her sister calls her a "fucking hippie" for it, but Rachel senses an immediate shift in the mood of the house the moment she walks in.

Zoey and Judy are in the midst of an intense conversation in the hallway with the bedrooms, but Quinn is nowhere to be seen.

Rachel strides quickly to Quinn's bedroom and finds it locked. She rattles the knob a bit.

"Leave me alone!" Quinn yells from behind the closed door.

"Baby?" Rachel calls out softly. "It's me."

The door opens a few seconds later and Rachel is grabbed and yanked inside. Quinn shoves her against the door and relocks it before she crashes her lips over Rachel's in a desperate kiss.

Rachel is thrown off. She's never seen Quinn this emotional or agitated. Certainly, Quinn's never been this rough with her.

"Baby, wait," Rachel breathes. "Your family is right outside the door and--"

"Shut up," Quinn mutters before she resumes kissing Rachel's neck. She rips Rachel's blouse open, popping the buttons. Her hands slip under Rachel's skirt.

A little alarmed, Rachel's back presses harder into the door as she tries to lean away. "Wait," Rachel says, "what happened? What's going on?" Unconsciously, she brings her knees together in an effort to lock them up.

Quinn is scaring her a little right now.

"I said to shut up," Quinn says, practically snarling. She gets down on her knees and grips Rachel's knees in a rough hold and yanks them apart. Before Rachel knows what hits her, Quinn pulls down Rachel's skirt and underwear and her open mouth begins suckling between Rachel's legs.

Quinn's mouth is harsh, rough and insistent and Rachel wants to protest, but whatever Quinn is dealing with, Rachel knows this is the first step. Quinn is a little scary right now, but Rachel trusts her girlfriend and she thinks maybe if she lets Quinn get this out of her system-- whatever this is, they can talk about what set Quinn off in the first place.

She allows herself to be yanked, like a rag doll toward the bed. Her bra is ripped off before she's practically thrown onto the bed when Quinn unceremoniously shoves her, hard.

Quinn is distraught and she looks so angry, she's close to tears.

Quinn straddles her hips before Rachel even has a chance to catch her breath.

Quinn's hands begin roughly massaging Rachel's breasts and Rachel's body begins to respond, even if she still is a little afraid. Quinn moves backward so she sits on the open-V of the bed between Rachel's spread legs. Quinn uses one hand the hold down Rachel's hips and she looks down at Rachel with almost clinical detachment.

Three fingers slip inside her, toying her. Rachel wants to protest because Quinn is just staring at her and the blank, empty… _cold_ look on her face is frightening and makes Rachel feel like a science experiment. But Rachel's body continues to respond.

When she's close and drenched, Quinn abruptly withdraws her fingers.

Rachel stares up at her girlfriend in confusion and then Quinn tilts her head and stares down at her.

Rachel sees Quinn make a hand gesture and for a moment, Rachel wonders if they're suddenly making shadow puppets or gang signs or something, but she recognizes that hand gesture from some of the instructional reading she's done. Her eyes widen and her breathing hitches.

She's ready to cry out a protest, because _no_ , this is not how she wants it, but then Quinn's hand, still in duck-bill position rips into her and dear _God_ , it hurts even with her own lubrication that's so abundant, it's coating her inner thighs, it still hurts. The way Quinn does it isn't slow, letting her get used to being stretched out-- it's quick and brutal and a hoarse, pained cry dies in her throat as Quinn's hand moves inside her.

Quinn continues to fist her and Rachel's eyes prick with tears. It hurts too much and the detached, vacant way that Quinn is staring down at her like she's taking _notes_ is scary.

Helplessly, Rachel's eyes squeeze shut.

"Stop," Rachel whispers.

But the sound is swallowed by the sound of wet smacking, harsh breaths and low grunts.

"Stop," Rachel repeats, this time louder.

But it's not loud enough and it doesn't stop. The pain is starting to feel good and really, Rachel considers just letting things run their course-- this is something she's always wanted to try and she knew it would hurt regardless, and now it really is starting to feel pleasurable. She considers not saying anything and just checking 'fisting' off her list of things she wants to try. But she never wanted it like this, when Quinn seems barely present. It's mechanical, not joyous or even _fun_.

Rachel opens her eyes.

"Stop," she says firmly, loudly.

Quinn freezes and stares down at her. And that empty, vacant look is gone and Rachel has her girlfriend back.

Quinn's lower lip gets wobbly and her hand pulls out, as slowly and gently as she can manage.

Rachel kind of misses the feeling of being filled, but she's also glad Quinn listened.

Quinn stares at her and their eyes meet. Quinn swallows noticeably. She gets off the bed and quickly walks to her dresser where she pulls out some underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

She hands the items to Rachel who redresses quickly.

"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"

Rachel nods quickly. "Of course," she assures softly. She's not afraid anymore and so she's more okay than she was a few minutes ago. She's not feeling 'okay,' exactly, and she feels really sore, but right now whatever Quinn is going through is more important than what just transpired.

Quinn swallows hard. "Did I hurt you?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Not at all, baby," she says. It's kind of a lie, but she's been through worse in her life. She just wants to know what happened to prompt all of _that_. She reaches out and pulls Quinn into a tight hug. "Forget about it, okay?"

Quinn trembles. "But--"

"No," Rachel says. "Forget about it. We'll try that again some other time."

"That's not what I meant. I--"

"You didn't hurt me," Rachel says firmly. " _Forget_ about it. Neither of us are ever going to bring that up again because it was not a big deal." Rachel doesn't want to believe Quinn could be capable of doing that to her again, so she just wants to believe it's an isolated incident and never think of it again. She's okay with moving past it and forgetting about it provided she knows why it happened. "Just…tell me what was going on with you. What _happened_?"

The trembling becomes even worse and Rachel holds on even tighter but she can still feel Quinn shake.

It's quiet for a while as Quinn just cries.

After a few minutes, Quinn pulls away. She's not shaking anymore, but tears continue to spill out of Quinn's eyes. Her hands ball into fists and she rubs angrily at her eyes. "My mom said that my dad wants to have dinner with me and Zoey. With his new partner."

"Your dad remarried?" Rachel questions softly.

Quinn laughs humorlessly. "His new _partner_ , Rachel."

It takes Rachel a moment to realize that 'partner' is not a new wife or some business partner.

Rachel's eyes widen. "Your dad's gay?"

Quinn laughs bitterly. "He came out to my mom last week. They're actually trying to be friends. Can you _believe_ it? After everything he did to me when I'd even _look_ at another girl for too long and, _he's_ gay."

"Oh baby," Rachel says softly.

Quinn fists punch into her mattress. "What the fuck?!" she demands. "What the fuck?! After everything he did to us, to _me_ , he thinks he can come back here and say what? 'Oh, sorry for beating you with a belt, Quinn. Sorry for making you get on your knees for hours saying prayers, Quinn. Sorry for beating up your mom and your sister, Quinn. Sorry for being an alcoholic, Quinn. Sorry for abandoning you, your mom and your sister, Quinn. I'm sorry for all of it, Quinn, but I was just a miserable late-in-life gay.'" Quinn's voice is taking on a mocking tone and it breaks a little. A tiny sob wrenches from Quinn's throat before she can speak again. "Sorry for making you feel like an abomination and a mistake and like you're going hell and God hates you, Quinn." Quinn punches her mattress again. "What the _fuck_?!" she screams.

Rachel doesn't know how to handle this. She doesn't know what to say or do. She wants to make it better, but she has no idea how.

She pulls Quinn into a hug and the blonde sobs into her shoulder for a few minutes, but she eventually pulls away.

"I need to go for a walk," she mutters. "I need some air."

"Baby--"

But Quinn is already on her feet and running out the door.

The hallway is filled with shouts-- Quinn's family must have been out there all this time.

Rachel runs after her girlfriend, but Quinn is _fast_ when she wants to be. Rachel sees Dan reach for Quinn, but Quinn dodges him and runs straight out the front door.

"This is all your fault, mom!" Zoey shouts. "Why can't you choose us for once? Who gives a _fuck_ about what he wants?"

Rachel runs after Quinn, but this is _not_ her neighborhood and she loses Quinn quickly. Dan is following behind, but he's trailing behind Rachel and not a help to see where Quinn went.

"Come on," Dan says, panting a little. "Let's go back to the house. We'll take my car and look for her. She could not have gone far." He looks down at Rachel’s bare legs. “And you need to put on some pants or something.”

"Okay," Rachel agrees and she wants to cry. She doesn’t even care about putting on some pants, she just wants to find Quinn.

\--

When they get back to the house, Zoey is still ranting.

“What did you think would happen?!” Zoey yells. “You know what he used to do to her! And now _he’s_ gay?”

Dan clears his throat and both Judy and Zoey turn to them.

“Where’s Quinn?” Judy and Zoey ask together.

“She took off,” Dan says.

Zoey glares at her mother. “Do you really think Quinn would have been happy to see dad after what he used to do to her because he thought _she_ was gay? God, mom!” She stomps away, and stops next to Rachel. “You’re with me, Rachel,” she says. “But put on some pants.”

“Um, okay,” Rachel says, running to Quinn’s room to grab her discarded skirt--she doesn’t even care that she’s not matching and she runs out to Zoey, who is waiting by the front door. She hears Judy on the phone, likely leaving a message for Quinn and Dan glancing out the window anxiously.

She follows Zoey to her car. They’re already driving away when Rachel looks in the rearview mirror and sees Dan and Judy getting into their cars, ostensibly to also look for Quinn.

“I think I know where she is,” Zoey says grimly. “But I didn’t want my mom to know about it because it’s kind of Quinn’s special hiding place. I don’t think she’s been there since she was a kid, but I found her there a couple times when our parents would have fights and she’d get freaked out enough to leave.”

“Okay,” Rachel says quietly.

\--

They find Quinn in a special hiding place at the park near her mother’s house. It’s dark and Rachel has to watch her step as she steps over tree roots, but she crouches next to her girlfriend who is sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest.

“Hey,” Rachel greets softly.

“Hey,” Quinn says dully.

“Let’s get you back to your mom’s, okay?” Rachel pleads. “You don’t have to talk to her, but you should be more comfortable there.”

Quinn snorts. “Believe me, I won’t be more comfortable there.”

“Quinn, come on,” Zoey says, fresh from telephone conversations with both her fiancé and her mother to alert them to the fact they found Quinn. “He’s not going to be there. We’ll just go back to the house and tell mom to tell dad to fuck himself.”

Quinn gives her sister a small smile. “I don’t want to see him anymore,” she says quietly.

“And you don’t have to. You know how I feel about dad. If you don’t want to see him, you know I’ll have your back on this. Do you and Rachel want to stay with me and Dan until you go back to LA?”

Quinn shakes her head somberly. “No,” she says flatly. “I guess I should just go home.”

“Okay,” Zoey says.

Quinn gets up and Zoey gives her an awkward pat on the back.

Rachel smiles reassuringly at Quinn and reaches for the blonde’s hand.

Quinn squeezes hard. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she whispers, shame-faced. “Are you really okay?”

Rachel wraps an arm around Quinn’s waist as they begin to walk to the car, side by side. “Baby, it’s okay. I told you to forget about it. Are _you_ okay?”

Quinn’s response is a very small whispered “yeah.”

\--

When they get back to the house, Rachel has to wait for a while in Quinn’s room while Quinn and her mother talk. Zoey is having none of it, so she and Dan leave once Quinn returns home.

Rachel sits nervously on Quinn's bed, her feet drumming restlessly into the carpet.

She feels way over her head here. Her family has its share of issues, but nothing on this level and she's not sure what to do. This is her _first_ night of a week-long visit and it's already veered into excruciatingly awkward territory.

She takes a deep breath and looks longingly out the window. She's had a lot of experience climbing out of windows in high school when she'd sneak out to meet Mike or Jesse. She has a perverse desire to grab her stuff, climb out the window and _bolt_ to go back to LA. But she won't disappoint Quinn that way.

Despite the fact every cell in her body screams at her to run, she stays put, her knees bouncing up and down. She feels like a terrible girlfriend because the urge to run is overwhelming-- to the point she contemplates it more than once.

\--

When Quinn comes back into the room, she has this look on her face that scares Rachel a little. She's never seen Quinn look so malevolently at her.

Quinn steps toward her quickly and grabs Rachel by the shoulders, yanking her up roughly and pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

It still leaves Rachel breathless.

"I guess we both have gay fathers," Quinn mutters darkly when they pull apart. It's a factual statement, but it sounds like a curse.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks hesitantly.

Quinn looks at her like she's crazy and Rachel flushes because she feels stupid.

"Rachel, just…just shut the fuck up, okay?" Quinn says, her voice tired.

"I…" Rachel is completely flummoxed. "O-okay," she says quietly, and she shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. The Quinn she's had tonight is not any version of Quinn she's ever experienced. She starts to regret not bolting when she had a chance, but she chides herself for such thoughts, for wanting to run at the first sign of turbulence in a relationship which has been, thus far, very blissful.

Quinn swallows hard and sits down. She puts her arms around Rachel and pulls her down, gently, this time, into her lap. She rubs her cheek into Rachel's back. "Don't apologize," Quinn says lowly. "I'm being a bitch. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel whispers.

"It's not," Quinn says despondently.

"So, what's going on?" Rachel asks quietly.

"I'm not seeing him," Quinn says lowly. "Not yet. I can't. My mom is going to tell him I don't want to see him right now."

"Okay, baby," Rachel murmurs. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asks with trepidation.

Quinn is silent for a moment before she responds. "No," she says. "I just can't believe he's gay." She pauses. "But I guess it makes sense, too," she says quietly. "He was so homophobic."

Rachel wants to say something optimistic like 'maybe he's changed,' but the truth is, she doesn't feel the need to defend Russell Fabray just because he turned out to be some late-in-life gay man.

"Do you want me to beat him up?" Rachel asks tenderly. Every boyfriend she's ever had has always offered "do you want me to beat them up?" every time she complained of being wronged by someone. Quinn is her first girlfriend, and Rachel never really felt the urge to beat anyone up this strongly before-- until now.

Quinn's laughs softly and she goes quiet for a moment before she speaks again. "I don't want him anywhere near you," she says softly. "He's poison."

"Okay," Rachel says softly. "But if you do want to see him, I'll go with you. I mean, if you want me to," she amends. "But I want to be there if you see him."

Quinn shakes her head. "I don't want to see him," she whispers. "I-I'm not ready."

"Okay, baby," Rachel murmurs, lifting Quinn's hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to Quinn's palm.

Quinn gently pushes up on Rachel's back and Rachel gets off Quinn's lap. Quinn rolls onto her back and curls up. "I'm going to sleep," she says softly. "I'm tired."

"You don't want to shower?" Rachel asks softly.

Quinn shakes her head. "I'm too tired."

Rachel bites down on her lower lip. She has obsessive compulsive tendencies and she's never gone to bed without washing up, brushing her teeth and going through her skincare regime a day in her life. But she can't bear the idea of leaving Quinn alone right now.

She turns off the light, lies down on the bed, and curls up behind Quinn. She wraps one arm around Quinn, and rubs her hand in lazy circles on Quinn's belly.

"That feels nice," Quinn says quietly after a long silence between them.

"Go to sleep," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn cries quietly for hours that night. Even when Rachel asks 'baby, are you okay?' Quinn won't respond, like she's asleep or something. But she's _crying_ and eventually cries herself to sleep. Rachel feels helpless.

Rachel can't sleep well when she's worried, so she drifts in and out of a half-sleep until the morning.

\--

Rachel is roused the next morning by Quinn who curls up to her, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry for last night!" Quinn wails. "God, baby. I'm so _sorry_."

Rachel swallows back the lump that rose in her throat and she hugs Quinn tightly. "It's _okay_ ," she reassures. "It's _all_ going to be okay."

Quinn cries for a little longer until she sniffles, wipes at her eyes and looks at Rachel with a flatly resolved expression.

"I'm going to shower."

\--

They shower separately and prolong venturing out into the rest of the house. But eventually, they can't put it off any longer.

When they walk toward the living room, they hear the TV on before they reach it and Quinn knows her mom is home. Her heart sinks a little because she doesn't want to get into this.

"Hi, mom," Quinn says quietly. "You don't have any appointments or anything today?"

Judy works hard as a real estate agent, but really, she can set her own schedule.

"I wanted to talk to you, Quinnie," Judy says quietly. "Rachel, do you think you can give us a--"

"Anything you say to me, you can say in front of her," Quinn interrupts rudely. "I'm going to tell her everything anyway."

"Quinnie," Judy says softly, looking at Quinn with so much compassion, that Quinn has to look away. Even Rachel finds it hard to see. "I'm sorry I tried to force you into seeing your father. I understand how you feel about your father-- he was terrible to you. Of course you don't have to see him."

"Of course I don't," Quinn snaps. "I'm an adult. You can’t make me do anything."

Rachel puts her hand on Quinn's back. It's meant to be calming, but Quinn's back stiffens and she turns around and gives Rachel a withering look.

"Spare me the lecture on being respectful to my mother just because you let your parents walk all over _you_ ," Quinn snaps.

Stung, Rachel lets her hand fall to her side. "I wasn't--"

"Butt out," Quinn says sharply. She turns her attention back to her mother. "You never cared before how he treated me, so I don't get why you would care now."

"Quinnie, I'm sorry for--"

"For what? Turning a blind eye to everything he did to me and Zoey?" Quinn snarls. "Guess what, mom? Neither of us were surprised by that. I _never_ expected you to protect me from him. In fact, I would be very surprised if you didn't throw me to the wolves every now and then with him. Since you seem to think it's all water under the bridge, why don't you just admit it. Did you? Did you ever throw me or Zoey under the bus so you could save yourself? And keep in mind that I won't believe you if you say 'no,'" Quinn sneers.

"Quinnie--"

"But for you to try to talk me into seeing him _now_ after everything he did to us? You haven't changed at _all_. You'll still choose him over us. What did you think? That I would want to see him just because he's gay and I'm gay? That somehow, it would make everything he did okay? Well, I don't have to like him just because he takes it up the ass now."

"Quinn," Rachel says softly. "Sweetheart, please calm down," she implores. She knows Quinn has every right to be this agitated, but she just wants Quinn to take a _breath_.

"Shut _up_ , Rachel," Quinn snaps

"Quinnie," Judy says. "Don't bully her."

It is absolutely the wrong thing to say. Rachel can sense Quinn's mood shift from angry to enraged.

"Are you comparing me to him?!" Quinn shouts at her mother. "What are you trying to say?!" she screams. "I would never do to Rachel what he used to do to you! Or to us! I'm not a bully like him!"

Quinn can be moody and a little volatile, but Rachel has never felt that Quinn is bullying or abusive. She understands instantly why Quinn would take such offense. Things are quickly escalating and Rachel feels the need to try to de-escalate the situation.

"Honey, take a deep breath," Rachel says softly. She puts her hand on Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn turns around and with a snarl, she snaps, "don't touch me!" Both of her hands fly out and she shoves Rachel back so violently, Rachel's feet fly out from underneath her.

Rachel hits the ground on her butt, but the momentum throws her on her back. She has enough time to brace her fall with her elbows to keep her head from slamming into the hardwood floor.

Quinn screams in horror and Judy gasps, but Rachel doesn't have the breath to make a sound.

Quinn is at her side and kneeling beside her instantly. "Rachel! Oh my God! Oh my _God_! I'm so sorry." She's sobbing now, but Rachel is still too winded and stunned to comfort her.

"Quinn, step away from her."

Judy's voice is harsh now.

Quinn's eyes blaze with anger. "Don't tell me what to do! She's my girlfriend!"

"Whom you just threw to the ground," Judy says. "Step away from her _now_."

Quinn swallows hard and takes a few steps back.

Judy approaches Rachel and kneels at her side. "Are you all right?" she asks gently.

"I'm fine," Rachel says, scrambling to stand. She tries to move toward Quinn, but Judy blocks her.

"Quinn needs to calm down," Judy says gravely.

Rachel peers around Judy at Quinn who is sobbing so hard, she's starting to hyperventilate.

"But-" Rachel starts to protest.

Judy says nothing further to her, but instead moves to Quinn and puts her arms around her daughter in a tight hug. Quinn begins to sob even harder as she clings to her mother.

Rachel swallows hard at the sight, but she quietly leaves the living room to go back to Quinn's bedroom to give them some space.

\--

She spends a couple hours holed up in Quinn's room reading books on the Kindle app on her iPhone. She tries not to think about what just happened with Quinn. She knows it's not okay that Quinn shoved her like that, but Rachel's already decided that she's going to give Quinn a free pass on that one. Quinn was clearly agitated and not in a rational state of mind and given everything that happened in just the last 14 hours, it probably wasn't wise to put her hands on Quinn-- even if she'd only wanted to calm Quinn down.

She gets that some people would balk at her forgiveness, which is why this is something she will keep to herself and definitely _not_ tell her sister about it, because it would likely get back to her parents. But Quinn is dealing with _a lot_ right now and Rachel thinks Quinn is entitled to a little uncharacteristic behavior. If it becomes a pattern, she'll have to rethink her position, but she's not going to crucify Quinn for having a hard time coping with everything she's learned over the last 14 hours.

She's sitting on the bed, reading, when Quinn comes back into the room.

Quinn can't seem to meet her eyes.

"Hi," Quinn says quietly. She shuts her door and leans her back against it. She just stands there, gazing at the floor, looking out of place in her own childhood bedroom.

"Hi, baby," Rachel says softly, holding her arms out toward Quinn. "Come here, baby. I've missed you."

Quinn's face trembles and she practically flies into Rachel's arms.

"I'm _sorry_ ," Quinn says, crying.

Rachel strokes her hair. "It's okay," she says softly.

"It's _not_."

"It is," Rachel says quietly, kissing Quinn's temple. "I know you didn't mean to do that."

"I didn't," Quinn whispers. "Baby, I am _so_ sorry."

"You were agitated," Rachel says ruefully. "I should have known better. It's okay, Quinn. You're trying to handle a lot right now."

Quinn swallows hard. "It's still not okay," she says. "God, I'm so sorry. I didn't…it'll never happen again. _Never_. I'm nothing like my dad."

"I know," Rachel says quietly. "I trust you. I know nothing like that will ever happen again. It's okay, sweetheart. We can just call that a free pass."

"I don't want to call it a free pass," Quinn protests.

"It was an unusual circumstance," Rachel says softly. "We'll call it a free pass."

Quinn swallows hard. "Then you should get one, too," she says. "If….if…I mean, when we have a really big fight then you…you should be able to get a free pass, too."

Rachel smiles affectionately. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted that you're already planning for me to have a monumental screw-up," she jokes.

That finally makes Quinn smile. "I'm not trying to say that."

"I know," Rachel says gently. She cups Quinn's cheek. "I think you should talk to someone about all of this. You're _obviously_ very angry. And your behavior over the past fourteen hours…" she trails off. "Quinn, I can let this go. But I need you to work through it, okay?"

"I feel like I'm going to explode," Quinn admits softly, grimacing. "I don't even know what to _think_."

"You should talk to someone," Rachel murmurs. "Let's stay here for this week, and then you can just come back with me to LA. You can get set up at Student Health."

Quinn looks wary and uncomfortable. "That just seems really fast."

"I'll go with you if you want," Rachel offers.

Quinn swallows hard. "But you were going to go home to Lima--"

"I just saw my family a few months ago," Rachel says quietly. "They won't mind. Let's go back to LA, Quinn. I realize you were planning on staying for a few more weeks, but I think it would behoove you to talk to someone sooner than later."

Quinn rubs her face with both hands, her eyes shutting firmly. "I just…I need to think."

"Okay," Rachel says softly.

They sit next to one another on the bed, their knees touching. The side of Rachel's left pinky finger grazes the side of Quinn's right pinky finger. It's silent between them as Quinn sits with her head bowed.

Rachel really wants to know what is going through Quinn's mind-- she has a pretty good idea, of course, but she'd like to hear Quinn out anyway. But Rachel stays quiet to give Quinn more room to think-- her girlfriend is more inward than she is and sometimes Quinn just needs time to sort through her thoughts.

"I want to go back sooner than later," Quinn says finally after nearly an hour of silence. "Do you think Student Health is going to be open all summer?"

"It's only going to be closed this week, and then the three weeks between the end of the second summer session and Fall Quarter," Rachel says. "I'll hook you up with an appointment."

Quinn smiles lopsidedly. "I guess it's a good thing that's your Work Study job, huh? I get all the perks," she jokes.

Rachel smiles and shrugs.

"It really won't happen again, Rachel," Quinn says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Rachel squeezes her hand. "I know, baby," she says sympathetically. She can appreciate the drama of a one-time thing, but she knows that it's so easy for things to escalate and get worse. "I know nothing like that will ever happen again," she says gently. "But in the unlikely event that it does--"

"It won't," Quinn insists, her voice become teary and breaking.

"I know," Rachel says softly. "But if it does, I'm just giving you fair warning--I'm out. I won't ever put my hands on you, but if something like this happens again, I'm out."

Quinn swallows visibly. "Okay," she says quietly.

"But I know it won't," Rachel says with a reassuring smile, nuzzling Quinn's cheek. "So don't worry."

Quinn relaxes a little, but she's still tenser than Rachel prefers.

\--

Quinn's mother goes to her office and they have the house to themselves for the rest of the day.

Quinn is quiet and somber and Rachel worries, but she's also cautiously optimistic everything will be okay.

Rachel cancels her plans to visit her family in Lima and instead they purchase tickets to fly back to LA in four more days.

When they leave for LA, there's very tenuous peace between Quinn and her mother, but when Judy offers to drive them to the airport, Quinn quietly asks that Zoey do it instead. Judy is clearly disappointed by this and Rachel feels a pang of sympathy. But her loyalty will always be to Quinn, so she quickly squelches it. Still, she hopes that Quinn and her mother will repair their relationship soon-- as Quinn's only parent she's in touch with, Judy is more important to Quinn than Quinn will let on.


	7. Chapter 7

Rachel is tempted to use her access to the Student Health appointment system to bump someone else from seeing one of the therapists and give Quinn that slot instead. But ultimately, Rachel doesn't have the heart to do it-- college is a rough time for many people and she doesn't want to bump someone who might really need it. Even if she believes Quinn needs it more.

There's so much just bubbling under the surface and though Rachel is not fearful of Quinn, she senses the blonde is ready to implode. For the first time in their relationship, she feels the need to tread carefully.

Except Quinn can sense her trepidation and Rachel can see how much that hurts Quinn. But Rachel feels too ill-equipped to do anything else.

\--

It takes 10 days for Quinn to get an appointment, but she does secure one. Rachel plans her schedule that week around it so that her shift at Student Health will end twenty minutes before Quinn's appointment is supposed to conclude. Like most therapists, all the therapists at Student Health practice a 50-minute therapeutic hour, so Rachel's shift that Thursday ends at 4:30pm and she waits twenty minutes for Quinn to finish.

When Quinn emerges, she's composed, but her eyes are red-rimmed.

Rachel rises to her feet and Quinn gives her a tremulous smile.

"Let's go," Quinn says lowly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Quinn says softly. "Let's just go, okay?"

"Sure," Rachel says quietly. She pauses. "Did you drive or take the shuttle?"

"Shuttle. You?"

"I drove," Rachel says. She cuddles closer to Quinn and links their arms together. "Come on, baby," she says, gently guiding Quinn toward the parking lot.

\--

"I'm sorry it didn't make you feel better," Rachel says quietly once they're in her car. "But please give it a chance. It's not a miracle or anything, but I think if you just gave it a few more tries, you might feel better and--"

"I feel a little better, actually," Quinn cuts off gently. "This is going to be my regular time for six weeks. After that, he said we'll see if I need to do more sessions. But if I do, he's going to refer me out to an outside agency."

"Oh," Rachel says quietly, blinking a little in confusion. She thought for sure the session upset Quinn given the expression on her girlfriend's face. "I'm glad you feel better."

"I'm sorry I was so awful to you," Quinn says softly. "I mean, when we were at my mom's. I didn't mean to be."

"I know, sweetheart," Rachel says. "It's just been a hard time for you. But I'm so proud of you for doing this. I really think it could help or else I never would have suggested you do it."

"I know," Quinn says softly. "And I do feel a little better. It's just that it wasn't easy."

Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand and squeezes. "You deserve to feel better, sweetheart."

\--

They get back to Rachel's apartment and start getting ready for one of the weekly dinners Rachel hosts at her apartment for a revolving assortment of their friends. Most of them are home for the summer, so the guests at the summer dinners are mostly strays who haven't gone home. Or simply don't have a place to go back to.

Rachel offers to cancel-- it wouldn't be the first time, but Quinn shakes her head.

"Let's keep everything normal."

"Okay," Rachel agrees softly.

\--

Brittany and Santana are the first to show up, bringing with them a keg of beer on a dolly.

Rachel stares at them. "Uh-- did you guys invite other people and forget to tell me?"

People are free to invite people to these dinners as they wish, just as long as they give her a heads up. It's primarily so she knows how much food to make, although many of these dinners are often potlucks. She trusts her friends' judgment, so she knows no one would invite assholes to her apartment. These dinners are meant to be fun distractions from monotony and stress-- they are, as an unspoken rule, drama-free, so Rachel understands why Quinn would want to continue on with it for tonight rather than canceling.

Santana grins. "Nah, munchkin. It's just time to get our drink on," she says with a cheeky smile. She and Brittany breeze past her. Santana pauses in front of Quinn. "Hey, Q," she greets, raising her fist for Quinn to bump.

"S," Quinn acknowledges. She bumps her fist against Santana's.

"You've been grumps this week," Santana says. "At least this way, you can be grumps for a reason when you're hungover tomorrow."

"I haven't been grumps!" Quinn protests.

"You've been grumps," Brittany says. "But beer will fix that tonight!"

"Beer!" Santana cheers, waving her arms in the air.

"Beer!" Brittany cheers back.

Quinn sighs. "Beer!" she cheers grudgingly. Because she knows Brittany won't stop saying "beer!" that way until she gives in.

Rachel suppresses a smile as Santana comes near her on her way to the kitchen to grab glasses. As tough as Santana is-- and the girl is tough as nails, she is also a really good friend. They aren't close-- Santana is definitely more Quinn's friend. Rachel's not even sure Santana would even speak to her if it weren't for Quinn, but Rachel really cares for Santana because of the way Santana cares for Quinn.

Santana bumps Rachel with her hip.

"That's how you _really_ cheer Q up," Santana says, bouncing on her tip toe and leaping gracefully into the kitchen/

Rachel chuckles, and casts a glance back at Quinn, who gives her a small smile.

\--

Jesse shows up next with a big smirk (nothing unusual) and a tray of homemade brownies (definitely unusual). Rachel eyes him suspiciously as she recalls the time when she was a junior in high school and he baked her some "special" brownies when he was home for a weekend from college.

"I'm throwing those out," she threatens.

He looks at her with practiced innocence. "But why? I worked so hard on them!" He smirks.

"I'm not having a repeat of the last time you made me brownies! I ate the entire pizza by myself! And then I had auditory hallucinations for two hours!"

"Hold up!" Santana says. She'd been listening to the conversation, "St. James, are these special brownies?"

He grins. "I graduated and I'm moving to New York soon. I just wanted to leave you guys with something good."

The phrasing makes Rachel wince, as it automatically brings to mind Sheryl Spencer who told her the same thing-- 'leave you with something good' the day Rachel lost her virginity to her.

Rachel forces herself to smile. "I'm chucking them," she says moving toward the trash. "You finally graduating after five years in college is not an impressive feat, rather it's _expected_."

Jesse theatrically clutches one hand to his chest. "You wound me by downplaying my accomplishments!"

Santana grabs the plate away from Rachel. "No way are you throwing these out. Party at your house tonight, Rach!" she says with a grin.

Rachel sighs. "Fine," she acquiesces grudgingly.

Jesse gestures toward the keg with his chin. "What kind of beer did you bring?" he asks Santana.

She grins. "What makes you think I brought it?"

"Didn't you?"

Santana chuckles. "Newcastle, no cheap shit for us."

\--

Hope Richland and Noah Puckerman show up at the same time, though they did not set out together.

Rachel welcomes each of them warmly. She really likes Noah Puckerman as a friend, even if he can be a little rough sometimes. She and Quinn have each had, separately, one-night stands with him before they even met one another which should make his presence at these dinners sort of awkward, but it doesn't. He's a relatively new addition to their little group, and Rachel knows that he shows up because he just wants a free meal, but he's always fun to have around. She's considering asking him to join her during her shows now that Jesse will trade in Los Angeles for New York City.

Rachel doesn't want to admit it, but it's an ego boost to see the way Hope looks at her. She never knew Hope liked her as more than a friend until Quinn told her, but since Quinn did, Rachel can see it. It's still sort of embarrassing and awkward because Rachel emphatically does not feel the same way. But it's an ego-boost nonetheless.

She knows it's normal, but she'll never admit it because it would undoubtedly set her girlfriend on edge.

The more Rachel thinks about it while everyone eats and gets drunk at her apartment, the more she thinks of the perfect person she can set Hope up with.

She makes a mental note to invite him to next week's dinner.

\--

She can't believe she let Santana and Jesse talk her into eating a brownie. By the end of the evening, everyone is so stoned and drunk, that she steals their keys and puts them in the freezer, somehow convincing herself it has become an impenetrable fortress. Jesse says something ridiculous about the Fortress of Solitude, thus revealing himself to be a closeted comic book nerd.

Rachel pulls out the air mattress she has for guests and sets it into the living room.

The last thing Rachel is conscious of is everyone huddled on every available surface in her living room and watching movies off her Netflix queue.

She knows she's going to regret it in the morning, but she can't remember the last time she had so much fun.

She looks at her grinning, laughing girlfriend and thinks Santana had a point about cheering Quinn up.

Sometimes a little unapologetic substance abuse is just the right thing. She has no intentions of making it habitual-- she respects her body far too much for that. But she sees no problem with the occasional indulgence.

\--

Rachel definitely regrets it the next morning. Everyone forgoes classes and/or work and just lounges in her apartment.

She good-naturedly cooks everyone breakfast, but everyone orders in lunch from various take-out places and her friends lounge in her apartment until two in the afternoon.

She knows she shouldn't feel so content and self-satisfied about the way she passed the previous evening considering how mildly illegal it was, but she is.

She never had many friends growing up-- Tina and Mercedes had plenty of friends other than her, and when they hung out with their friends, an invitation was never implicitly extended to her and she never had the self-confidence to ask if she could tag along. It's why once someone comes to one of her weekly dinner parties, they always have a standing invitation to the rest of them-- she wants her friends, and by extension, their friends, to know they are always included and always welcome.

She likes her solitude, but she's extroverted by nature.

\--

Once the last of their friends leave, Quinn stays behind to help clean up, although their friends are considerate, so there's not a lot to be done.

"I should get to the practice rooms," Rachel murmurs, once they're done.

She's basically wasted the entire day and she doesn't want the whole day to be a loss.

Quinn bites her lip. "Can I come with?" she asks hesitantly.

Rachel smiles at her. "Of course."

\--

She's always had a tendency to over-prepare, so she's already getting ready for the recital she'll have at the end of the upcoming Fall quarter-- despite the fact that the second summer session has barely begun. She had piano and voice recitals at the end of the last school year which were very well-received, and she wants to continue that trend. For her Fall recital, she'll have to prepare two original compositions in addition to a well-known classical piece. Not to mention her voice recital. And that's only for her music major, for her theatre major, she's still not sure what she's doing-- last year, her roles in the school plays satisfied her performance requirement, but she's not sure what she's doing this year.

She and Quinn get to the practice rooms-- each piano major has a key to the practice rooms and there is a schedule which people try to stick to, but sometimes when it's not in use, it's first come, first serve, particularly in the summer. Her favorite one happens to be open, and she and Quinn shuffle in.

She starts out with some warm-up arpeggios, which she runs through with Quinn-- she meant it when she said she'd give Quinn piano lessons. Quinn's longer fingers certainly give her an advantage and they giggle as they run up and down the octaves.

Then she breaks into the 1837 version of Lizst's 'Transcendental Etude No. 11' which is the classical piece she intends to play for her recital. Lizst has always been a challenge for her because of her small hands, but there's something about his music that she loves and she's always had a soft spot for all of his pieces.

Quinn must be her good-luck charm because she plays it _perfectly_. Growing up, her violin teachers told her she had a tendency to 'decorate' her music and piano teachers have told her she had 'unique' interpretations. But she knows her professor would not have had a problem with that performance and she's a little proud of herself. Now it’s a matter of playing it perfectly again and again-- until she could do it in her sleep, even high on Ambien, not that she'd ever take Ambien.

When she finishes, she keeps her hands busy on the piano playing the 'Linus and Lucy' song from _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ , but she turns to Quinn and grins.

She blinks at the stupefied expression on Quinn's face.

"What?" she asks, keeping her eyes on Quinn, but she keeps playing.

"You're just…you're _really_ good. I mean, I knew you were good. But that was… amazing," Quinn says softly.

And, _oh_ , the look that Quinn gives her scorches her on the spot. Rachel stops playing immediately and leans forward to capture Quinn's lips.

She feels like a huge nerd, but once they part, she unironically begins playing that Ramones song 'Oh Oh I Love Her So.'

"Nerd," Quinn teases.

Rachel smiles bashfully, but finishes the song out. It's only a couple minutes long anyway. She's already chosen her pieces for her piano performance for her recital, but nothing for her voice recital which will likely take place on the same day, because that's the way it's always been.

She really has no idea what to do, but only because she's overwhelmed by all of her choices.

She's fully cognizant of the fact she's kind of love-stoned, because every song she thinks of is a corny love song, and though she's a huge fan of silly love songs, that likely won't go over well with the professors in the music department, even if she knows for a fact a couple of them have soft spots for Taylor Swift.

\--

She gives Quinn another piano lesson, though it's not a serious one. Quinn has the basics down and she's clearly talented and retains the knowledge from her lessons as a child. Rachel's heart pangs a bit because she thinks her girlfriend has a real talent for this instrument and she wishes that talent could have been cultivated and nurtured when she was younger. It's possible that it's something Quinn could have turned to for comfort when she was having a hard time-- certainly that was the case for Rachel growing up.

It's late when they leave the room and Rachel realizes they were able to get so much uninterrupted time because it's summer Friday night.

"Ah, baby. I'm sorry," Rachel apologizes. "It's Friday. I should have taken you out. I apologize profusely," Rachel says sincerely. "We still have time. We can both go home and get changed and--"

"I think this was a really good date," Quinn says shyly, reaching for Rachel's hand and threading their fingers together. She smiles and swings their joined hands together. "I would rather we just get some food, go back to your place and watch a movie if that's okay. You have a show tomorrow, so we're going to go out this weekend anyway…"

Rachel smiles. "That sounds perfect."

Internally, she sings, _'I'm thinking it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images, and when we kiss, they're perfectly aligned_.' She knows that song by the Postal Service is the cliché theme song of indie nerds in love everywhere, but she really does feel like she and Quinn are corresponding shapes, like puzzle pieces from the clay.

When Rachel was younger, she used to think a good relationship was about going out and being seen. But she's come to realize that she loves nothing better than to be reclusive with Quinn.

"You guys just barricade yourselves in Rachel's apartment like kermits," Brittany mocks frequently.

Rachel and Quinn just smile because they can't argue with that. So far, neither of them have had the heart to correct Brittany that she actually means hermits, and Santana just seems to find it endearing.

"I really love being a kermit with you," Rachel says sincerely. She bites back a smile.

Quinn giggles. "I love being a kermit with you, too."

Rachel hopes she doesn't accidentally start saying 'kermits' instead of 'hermits.'

\--

After six weekly sessions with the school therapist, Quinn gets a referral to continue therapy with an outside therapist who is more conducive to longer-term therapy rather than brief therapy.

Rachel can see Quinn feels a little down that she actually needs a little more help-- like it's a weakness or something, but Quinn does feel strong enough to call her mother and speak to her without it escalating into another argument.

Rachel can see how relieved Quinn is now that she and her mother are on good terms again and Judy even comes for another visit before the new school year begins.

It goes pretty well and Rachel is happy as long as Quinn is happy.

\--

Rachel likes Judy as a person, and she honestly believes Judy has come a long way as a mother. But she feels very blessed Quinn is so different from her mother. Practically from the moment she set eyes on Quinn, she's thought about marrying the blonde. The longer they date, the more firm that commitment becomes. Seeing how different Quinn is from Judy and what a wonderful person Quinn is despite everything that's happened to her makes Rachel think how Quinn would be a really good mom.

Rachel knows they're both young-- she's still a few months shy of her twentieth birthday, but she starts to think about the Wish List for her life. It used to include things like achieving the EGOT before she's thirty (unlikely, but not impossible) and the various roles on Broadway she wanted to play and the music venues she wanted to perform in (Carnegie Hall, Royal Albert Music Hall and…Caesar's Palace because if it's good enough for Celine, it's good enough for her) But now at the top of that list is marrying Quinn by twenty-five and starting a family with her before she's thirty, and both of those things have become more important to her than her professional goals, which is still scary for her, but becomes less scary the longer she and Quinn are together.

\--

They're lying in bed at Quinn's new apartment at the start of the new school year when Quinn says out of nowhere, "I want to see my dad."

Quinn's voice is very quiet when she says it, and it's dark, so Rachel can't see Quinn's face. She's not sure if she's heard right.

"Pardon?"

"I want to see my dad," Quinn repeats quietly. "It's what I've been talking to my therapist about."

Quinn doesn't talk much about her therapy sessions and Rachel doesn't really ask beyond asking "how was it today?" because she thinks some things should be private.

"Okay," Rachel says. "Have you decided when you want to see him?"

"No," Quinn says quietly. "I'm not really ready. It's just something I'm trying to work toward. I want to do it, but I need more time."

"I'll go with you whenever you want," Rachel offers.

"Thanks," Quinn says softly. "My mom says he's changed a lot. Zoey hasn't talked to him or anything, but I'm kind of hoping Zoey will meet with him first and let me know how it goes. I…I just…I don't really trust him," she whispers. "And I don't want him anywhere near you if he's anything like he was when he left us."

Rachel strokes her hair. "Even if he is still the same, I still want to go with you. Even more so if he hasn't changed. I don't want you to go alone."

"Zoey still says she'll go with me if I insist on going. She's still pretty angry about it though, she thinks it's a bad idea."

"I could understand not wanting you to see him," Rachel says quietly.

"I'm just so angry," Quinn confesses. "I don't understand how he could have treated us like that. I get how miserable he must have been-- I was pretty miserable when I was still trying to hide the fact that I wasn't straight. But I don't understand how he could…" her voice begins to tremble and she clears her throat. When she speaks again, her voice is steady, but softer. "I don't understand why he had to hit," she whispers. "I don't know if I want a relationship with him-- I…I _miss_ him. I miss having a dad. But I want to ask him why he was so hard on me. He just seemed like he went after _me_ more than he did my mom or my sister and I just want to know _why_."

"I don't think any answer he can give would be a good one," Rachel says, treading carefully over delicate territory. "What he did was _wrong_ and nothing he says would make his actions acceptable or right. I'm not saying you should let it go-- you're entitled to your feelings, whatever they may be, baby. But I don't think _you_ should be the one to carry this around. It should be him. And I don't think any reasons he has are justifications."

Quinn's voice wavers. "I don't want _excuses_ , I just want explanations. Or reasons, whatever. Just something to help me understand because I don't understand." Her voice trembles. "I tried my _best_ ," she says quietly, her voice wavering. "I _really_ tried." She swallows hard. "Do you think he feels bad? Or do you think he just doesn't care?

"I don't know," Rachel replies honestly, near tears. This is the part about love she used to think was romantic before she actually fell in love-- to feel pain when the person one is in love with feels pain. But the reality is, it just hurts like hell and she feels helpless because she can't make the hurt go away.

She hopes so. She always tries to repress any violent proclivities, but if Russell doesn't regret abusing Quinn the way he did, Rachel intends to _make_ him regret it, one way or another. In a more violent period in human history, she could have found him and killed him and maybe given his partner a cow or something for his loss. But now she would just have to settle for enrolling him in the Communist Party or putting him on a list of NAMBLA supporters or something. But the urge to burn his world down either through literal or metaphorical (or both) means threatens to engulf her.

But the realization that she wants to rain down fire and breathe out smoke stops her because sometimes the violence of her own thoughts scares her.

"What does it say about me if he doesn't regret it?" Quinn asks weakly.

"It doesn't say anything about _you_ , baby," Rachel whispers, holding Quinn tightly. "That would be a reflection on him. If he were any kind of decent human being, he should regret it."

"Do you think he ever loved me?"

"I'm sure he did," Rachel murmurs. "You're so loveable."

"Do you love me?" Quinn asks, her voice quivering.

"Yes," Rachel whispers into Quinn's ear.

She resists the urge to say 'of course' or 'you know that I do' because that makes it sound like she's annoyed or something, and she's not. She knew getting into this relationship that as much as she reassures Quinn, sometimes, Quinn just needs more affirmation. Quinn isn't asking because she doesn't know-- she just needs to hear it. Those are very different things.

Quinn turns around, her mouth seeking Rachel's. Their lips meet, their tongues colliding with one another. Quinn sucks on Rachel's lower lip and bites it gently. Rachel moans at how good that feels. Quinn initiates the kiss, but it’s Rachel who deepens it.

When they finally part, they're both panting and out of breath.

"Do you love me?" Quinn breathes again.

Rachel nuzzles Quinn's ear as one of her hands gropes Quinn's breasts. "Yes," she breathes.

"Do you love me?" Quinn repeats softly.

"Yes," Rachel murmurs. "Yes. Yes." She brings her head down to wrap her lips around one of Quinn's nipples and gives it a hard suck. Rachel feels herself become even wetter when she hears Quinn moan.

Quinn's hand clenches in Rachel's hair-- it's a little painful but Rachel has no urge to complain.

"Baby," Quinn moans out as Rachel continues to tease her breasts. "I…I bought a strap-on," she says. "I was…I was just curious. And I…" she lets out a shuddered groan as Rachel's hand drifts down to tease Quinn between her legs. "I want to fuck you with it," Quinn says, her voice growing rough. "Please, baby. Can I fuck you with it?"

Rachel swallows hard. "Okay," she whispers.

Quinn gasps a little, like she's surprised by the response, but she doesn't waste any time.

She flips on the light on the nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling the strap-on out.

It's a double-headed one and Rachel is a little intimidated, but she wonders if this means they can come at the same time. She really likes it when that happens because they have almost the same stamina, so when they come at the same time, it means they can get to the second go-around quicker.

"I like that lesbians accessorize," Rachel says. "A girl can never have too many accoutrements."

She's babbling because she's nervous, and Quinn knows this because she pauses and smiles.

"We don't have to, baby."

"I want to," Rachel whispers. She blushes. "I want you to fuck me."

Dirty talk always seems so ludicrous after-the-fact when she replays it in her mind. But when she's in the moment, she can't resist.

Quinn gives a tiny nod and Rachel watches as Quinn puts it on. She swallows hard at the sight of the artificial cock between Quinn's legs. She never thought this could look so sexy, but seeing the straps of the harness and that fake dick… Rachel squirms and rubs her thighs together, already wet and ready.

"Lay down on your back," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn complies and Rachel lowers her head to the fake cock, putting her lips around it.

She knows Quinn can't feel it, and Rachel's wet enough right now that she doesn't actually need the extra lubrication, but she sucks on the dick as if she were giving a real blow job and Quinn moans as if she can really feel it.

Enough time passes and then Quinn grabs her and suddenly Rachel is on her back.

The cock slips inside her immediately and Quinn's thrusts are hard and frantic.

Rachel's eyes shut tightly and she bites her lower lip. It feels so good.

She has no complaints about her sex life with Quinn-- she's _very_ content, but she has to admit, this feels _so_ good. She realizes she misses being filled like this and she wants to make this part of their normal sexual repertoire. Maybe not daily or anything, but at least a couple times a month.

"Open your eyes," Quinn grunts as she thrusts. For someone who doesn't have that particular equipment, Quinn is _really_ adept at fucking her with a cock. " _Look_ at me."

Rachel's eyes flutter open and she peers up into Quinn's face.

"You're mine, right?" Quinn asks, her voice cracking a little.

It's hard to think given what Quinn is doing to her right now.

Rachel's mouth opens and her jaw works uselessly. Sounds come out but no words.

"You're mine, right?" Quinn repeats, her voice cracking again. She continues to thrust, but one of her hands slips down and her fingers roll over Rachel's clit.

Rachel gasps and it takes her a moment to respond because she _almost_ came that time. "Yes," she breathes. "God, _yes_."

They stop talking as Quinn continues to thrust and Rachel concentrates on how good that feels.

"Fuck me," Rachel grunts wantonly. She's not even sure what she's saying. "Fuck me," she grunts. "Harder. Fuck me."

Quinn moans and the thrusting does become harder and Rachel gets even wetter.

"Fuck all my holes, baby," Rachel grinds out.

"Oh God," Quinn moans and the thrusting becomes even harder and more frantic.

It's hitting Rachel in all the right spots and as Quinn keeps slamming into her in _just_ the right way, Rachel knows she is very, very close.

"I'm yours, right?" Quinn asks desperately. "I'm yours?" she asks pleadingly in harsh breaths.

"You're mine," Rachel assures in a growl. "Mine." she reaches around to give Quinn's ass a hard smack, making Quinn squeak and thrust into her even harder.

It's enough to do her in and she comes hard, her inner thighs becoming soaked.

Quinn hasn't come yet and Rachel can see that her girlfriend is becoming a little desperate.

"Pull out of me," Rachel growls. "I want to fuck you with my mouth."

Quinn pulls out of her with a wet pop and Rachel gets on her knees and pulls the strap-on off and immediately begins licking between Quinn's legs. Quinn is already soaking and Quinn's hips buck up to rub herself against Rachel's face. She doesn't need much.

Rachel feels starved and desperate to taste her and she licks, nibbles and sucks with gusto.

"You taste so good," Rachel moans. "I want to eat you out all night," she purrs. "All I ever want to do is eat your pussy," she whispers. "What have you done to me?"

"Oh God," Quinn groans, her voice cracking. "Please, baby. Fuck me."

She feels bewitched because dating Quinn has transformed her-- Rachel's never been able to completely let go like this during sex. And yes, she will be a little embarrassed when they're done and she'll cringe when she looks back on this for saying something as cliché as 'all I want to do is eat your pussy,' because _really_ that sounds like something out of some terrible porn. But in _this_ moment she really means it. Good _God_ , does that somehow make pornography even remotely true to life? Because if so, Rachel is horrified.

And she's _mortified_ she told Quinn to fuck all her holes, because while she's open to anal sex if it's with Quinn, she's also perfectly content to leave that particular hole a one-way street. She's already tried anal sex with both Mike and Jesse anyway, so it's not something she absolutely has to try with Quinn.

It's just something she said in the heat of the moment. Okay, sure, if Quinn had turned her over and started fucking her ass, she would have gone along with it. She probably would have even liked it. But that moment passed and now she's just intimidated by anal sex. That is the thing with most things sexual-- if one stopped to think too much, it's just intimidating and everyone would be stuck doing missionary. A certain amount of guts and impulsivity is required along with the consent and mutual attraction. At least, Rachel thinks so.

Quinn begins to babble incoherently, begging to come, as Rachel continues to lick, suck and tease, withholding Quinn's release.

Quinn's hips buck up repeatedly in an effort to hump Rachel's face, but Rachel just pushes them down.

Finally, when she senses that Quinn has had enough, she curls the three fingers she has buried deeply inside of her girlfriend and sucks Quinn's clit until her face is completely drenched in Quinn's come.

Quinn is left gasping for air and Rachel feels proud of herself and honestly, a little smug because Quinn can barely catch her breath and Quinn's lower body is drenched in come while her upper body is drenched in sweat.

That would leave anyone a little smug and self-satisfied.

"We're going to have to change the sheets," Rachel murmurs.

"I know," Quinn says, still gasping.

When they manage to catch their breaths enough to change the sheets, they find that the mattress is actually a little wet, soaked even through the mattress cover.

"Okay, that's just embarrassing," Rachel says.

"Mortifying," Quinn agrees, burying her face into Rachel's neck. "I need to buy a new bed! That's so gross!"

Rachel grins and points. "We did that," she says proudly.

She can't help but be proud, despite the fact she thinks that's kind of unsanitary.

Quinn smacks Rachel's naked butt. "This is your fault!"

Rachel grins impishly. "Yeah. I know." She giggles. "What's the difference between an erection and a Camaro?"

Quinn looks puzzled. "What?"

Rachel lowers her voice to whisper. "I don't have an erection," she husks silkily.

The second she says it, she realizes she told the joke wrong.

"No!" Rachel exclaims. "I told it wrong! I'm supposed to say 'I don't have a Camaro,' which would imply that I have an ere--"

"I got it," Quinn interrupts gently. She laughs softly. "You nerd."

Rachel pouts and swats at Quinn's bare belly. "I can't make jokes?"

"Well, you're _allowed_ , you just don't tell it right. Do I need to remind you of the Interrupting Cow joke you kept messing up?"

"No," Rachel sulks. She points to the bed. "We can't sleep here tonight. It's unsanitary."

Quinn nods in agreement. "We'll have to sleep at your apartment."

"However, I do propose that since we'll have to spend tomorrow cleaning and sanitizing your bedroom, we might as well clean and sanitize the rest of your apartment. And if we're going to do that anyway, we should engage in some activities that would merit such actions."

Quinn grins. "I just cleaned my kitchen table this morning," she says. "But I can be persuaded to clean it again tomorrow."

Rachel smirks. "Are you implying that we taint the sanctity of your kitchen table? We've eaten there!"

Quinn smirks as well. "Yes, we have."

Rachel beams. "Well, don't keep me waiting."

\--

Rachel's been afflicted with a mild-to-moderate case of OCD traits for most of her life, so she never thought she would be the kind of girl to engage in sexual activities on a surface where she eats. But she's broken a lot of rules with Quinn.

If someone had told her she and a person she's dating would take turns lying on a kitchen table, masturbating, while the other person looks on, Rachel would have said this person was insane.

In practice though, it's one of the hottest things Rachel's ever seen.

Watching Quinn move two fingers inside herself while tweaking her nipples with her free hand is _hot_ , but being able to tell Quinn what to do, and having Quinn actually follow direction-- that's even _hotter_.

"Add another finger," Rachel whispers, grinning when Quinn complies.

"Touch your clit."

Quinn releases shuddering breaths.

Rachel stands next to the table and crouches down. She brings her head close to Quinn's. "I'm going to kiss you," Rachel murmurs. "But I don't want you to stop fucking yourself, do you understand?"

"Y-y-yes," Quinn manages to gasp out.

"And don't you dare come," Rachel warns. "You're just getting yourself warmed up and ready for me."

"Y-yes," Quinn gasps.

"And if you stop touching yourself while I kiss you, I'm going to stop. And if you make yourself come and take that opportunity away from me, I assure you, you will be the only person making yourself come for the rest of your life. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes," Quinn stammers.

Rachel's lips latch onto Quinn. She sucks on Quinn's lower lip, and she keeps one eye open as she watches Quinn finger herself. She closes her eyes, feeling her pussy twitch at the sight and pushes her tongue into Quinn's mouth.

By the time Rachel tears herself away, Quinn's chest is heaving and Rachel licks her lips at the sight of Quinn's bare breasts moving up and down. Quinn continues to finger herself because Rachel never told her to stop.

"That's so hot," Rachel says tenderly. "You're so beautiful. Keep fucking yourself, baby. Touch your tits, too. I think they feel a little unloved."

Rachel's pussy begins to ache when she sees Quinn use her free hand to pinch one of her nipples. Rachel just watches Quinn fuck herself for a while, and one of her own hands begins to move between her legs before she even realizes what she's doing.

"Please, baby," Quinn begs. Her voice comes out strangled.

Rachel grins. "I don't think you've warmed yourself up enough. Fuck yourself a little harder, baby."

A small wail escapes Quinn's lips, but the hand between her legs begins to rub a little more frantically and the fingers pinching her nipples begin to squeeze a little tighter. Desperate, keening moans tear out of Quinn's throat.

"Please," Quinn groans. "Please.".

Rachel smiles. She knows Quinn's had enough. "What do you want me to do?" Rachel murmurs.

Quinn reaches out blindly, groping for one of Rachel's hands. She finds one and holds on tightly

"Go down on me," Quinn whispers. "Fuck me with your mouth."

Rachel happily obliges.

\--

At the end of their night, they've taken each other on every flat surface in Quinn's apartment that could accommodate them, They take a shower together and then drive, exhausted, to Rachel's apartment, where they immediately fall into sated sleep.

\--

When Rachel wakes up the next morning, she's a little embarrassed by how heated things got the night before. In the immediate aftermath, she'd been satiated and cocky, but now she is a little self-conscious, though she still has a bit of a sex haze going on.

It's clear Quinn feels the same way, because they have a hard time looking at one another in the eye once they're both awake. Every time they do, they each blush and look away. Neither of them make any move to get out of bed though.

It makes Rachel think back to their first time together--rather than some sweet, tender coupling, it'd been fairly raunchy and pornographic. But it was awkward the morning after despite the fact there were no regrets.

They've been together a while, so Rachel isn't sure what makes last night so different, but it's clear they're both struggling with it a little.

She's nervous, so to take her mind off things, she starts inwardly singing song lyrics.

She doesn't realize she's moved from inwardly singing song lyrics to outwardly humming them until Quinn starts laughing.

Rachel looks at Quinn. "What?"

"Wham, huh?" Quinn asks with a playful grin. "So when you look so faraway, you're not thinking about life's mysteries like I thought. You're humming Wham lyrics."

Rachel's eyes are wide. "How did you know?" she asks, her voice hushed. Is Quinn psychic? A mindreader?

Quinn smiles wryly. "You were humming them out loud, dork," she says affectionately.

Rachel blushes at her momentary stupidity. But to be fair, one might say Quinn fucked her brains out the night before. "Oh."

Quinn chuckles and grabs both of Rachel's cheeks. "You're cute," she says fondly as she kisses Rachel's lips.

Rachel never knew she could be capable of so much love. Rachel can concede that they are not unique-- they're just in love, just like many people all around the planet are in love. But in this moment, even knowing there are plenty of other couples waking up or going to bed around the planet, maybe even doing the exact same thing they're doing, Quinn is the only girl who can make her feel this way.

\--

She has a show that night and even though she prepared a set list weeks ago, she makes an impromptu decision to change a few songs around.

Her penultimate song for the evening is City and Colour's song 'The Girl' which comes pretty close to communicating what she feels for Quinn.

_"I wish I could do better by you, 'cos that's what you deserve. You sacrifice so much of your life, in order for this to work. While I'm off chasing my own dreams, sailing around the world, please know that I'm yours to keep, my beautiful girl."_

Rachel's voice wavers a bit with emotion and everything is _so_ quiet in that tiny venue. She takes a deep breath and meets Quinn's eyes. Quinn smiles at her encouragingly and gives her a little wave.

Rachel smiles as she continues to sing. _"When you cry, a piece of my heart dies knowing that I may have been the cause. If you were to leave, fulfill someone else's dream, I think I might be totally lost. You don't ask for no diamond rings, no delicate string of pearls, that's why I wrote this song to sing, my beautiful girl."_

She finishes up the song and launches immediately into her last song for the night. She always likes to end her shows on a less sedate note, so she chooses a cover of the Kinks to close her show.

Noah Puckerman comes up to accompany her on a guitar, while her friend, Timothy, gets on drums and she switches to the keyboards. 'Catch Me Now I'm Falling' is kind of slow in its original form, but she speeds up the tempo and gets it to a pace she wants.

The end result is enthralling for her-- people are cheering or singing along.

"Show me your tits!" Santana screams at her, after she hit her last note, just the way Santana always does.

And just like always, Rachel laughs.

"Thank you, Santana. I love you."

"I love you, too, Munchkin!" Santana calls back.

"Show me your tits!" Someone else from the audience screams at Rachel.

Rachel pouts. She's expected this to happen-- Santana does it at all the shows she goes to, so it was destined to become a _thing_. But Rachel has no idea how to handle it.

Santana stands up and glares in the direction of the voice. "Shut the fuck up!" Santana shouts. "I keep razor blades in my hair!"

Holy hell, Rachel _believes_ her.

The audience laughs, and Rachel bursts into robust laughter.

Rachel doesn't care if she has to waitress or flip burgers or whatever for the rest of her days, as long as she gets to do something like this for her nights. She still wants the Broadway stage more than anything else, of course, but performing like this is a very close second.

When she catches Quinn's eyes as she waves at her audience and bows at the close of her set, she knows she's living her dreams.

\--

In addition to Santana and Brittany, Hope came out to support Rachel that night, too. Everyone heads to Rachel's apartment for an after-party with Tim and Noah in tow. Noah insists that his friend, Finn, whom Rachel had a one-night stand with when she was a drunk freshman, is an excellent drummer and would be happy to help Rachel out with her shows. Rachel thinks Finn is sweet, though very, very dim. But she has no desire to get to know him. Unlike Noah who does have an air of mystery to him and is also appealing because he is genuinely a kind man, Finn just seems so _ordinary_. Plus, Rachel has a feeling that Finn is not as sweet as he seems.

Rachel sees the way Tim stares at Hope and she knows that her plan to set them up is perfect. She's planned to invite him over for one of her dinners, but hasn't yet. Now it's the perfect time to set them up.

She know the way Tim stares has more to do with the fact that Hope is almost supernaturally beautiful, but Rachel knows that Tim isn't shallow-- he'll value Hope for more than being a pretty face.

She likes Tim a lot-- he's good-looking, tall, with brown hair and green eyes.

She has to admit when she first met him as a freshman, she had a tiny crush on him-- she'd been very taken by his cheek dimples which are particularly prominent. Like her, he is a double major in Music Performance and Theatre, so they spend a lot of time together at school, but haven't spent much time outside of it.

She watches him for a long time as he chats animatedly with Hope. Rachel is not sure if he and Hope will have a lot in common-- she met Hope in a Music Theory class that was a requirement for her, but Hope only took to get the general education credit.

Hope is a Computer Science major-- and from what Rachel knows, could have her pick of any of the men she takes classes with. Still, Rachel can't picture Hope with the stereotype of the Computer Science major-- she sees Hope with someone more artsy. She's not sure if this is because she herself is artsy and now that she's aware of Hope's crush on her, she's just trying to match Hope with someone like her. But Tim is artsy and sweet, and Rachel just thinks they'll hit it off.

She watches him with Hope because she cares for Hope deeply as a friend and she doesn't want to steer Hope toward someone who is not going to be kind to her. So Rachel watches their interactions and searches for any hint of unkindness or malice from Tim, and she can't find any.

She knows Hope well enough to know that Hope will treat Tim well.

They really seem to hit it off. As a person, Hope is a little closed-off, which is why Rachel has never been particularly attracted to her. Hope is gorgeous, but she tries so hard to be a wallflower, that Rachel's never felt she's gotten to know Hope. She's so guarded, she's not even _aware_ of being guarded.

She's never seen Hope laugh so hard before, which is strange because she never thought of Tim as being particularly funny. He's kind and sweet, but Rachel sees him doing _impressions_ for Hope. She's barely seen him _laugh_.

For both their sakes, Rachel really hopes it is love at first sight.

She's so optimistic about their pairing, she can't take her eyes off them for most of the night. She fantasizes about their wedding invitations and being able to toast them at both their engagement party and their wedding ceremony. She thinks about the gorgeous children they'll have.

She grins when she sees Hope and Tim leave together.

\--

It's close to three in the morning when everyone leaves and she's left with Quinn.

Her smile fades when she sees the expression on Quinn's face.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks softly.

Quinn's lips purse and she's quiet for a moment before she speaks. "Are you attracted to Tim?"

Rachel blinks, bewildered. She has no idea where that came from. She's not irritated so much as she is a little hurt because she always thought she made her feelings for Quinn clear.

"No," Rachel says slowly. "Why would you even ask me that?"

Quinn scowls. "You were staring at him like you wanted to fu--" she swallows hard. "You were staring at him like you're attracted to him. I saw you. You couldn't take your eyes off him."

Rachel catches the way Quinn corrects herself and she finds herself being grateful that Quinn is mediating what she's saying even when she's upset.

"I'm trying to set him up with Hope," Rachel says quietly. She's not sure why she needs to defend herself-- she's done nothing wrong, but she hates conflict and she'll do anything to avoid it if she can.

"Well, that's no reason to stare at him the whole night," Quinn snaps.

How can she explain that she was only looking because she wanted to make sure she'd made the right choice? That she wanted to make sure he was sweet to her friend and that they were getting along. It makes her sound ridiculous.

"Why are you so upset?" Rachel asks quietly.

"Because the whole time you were talking to me you kept looking at him!"

Rachel concedes that is kind of true, but she didn't think it would turn into such a big deal. She flinches at the way Quinn yells and takes a few steps back.

"I was just…" Rachel swallows. "Are you upset because I showed poor etiquette toward you or are you upset about something else?" she asks. "Because surely you can't believe I'm attracted to him when I just told you that I'm not."

Quinn clenches her jaw, but her anger seems to dissipate as her shoulders sag. "No," she admits quietly. "I don't believe that."

"Okay, then," Rachel says. She bites down on her lip. She understands that Quinn is insecure, even if she would never say it out loud. And really, Rachel doesn't want Quinn to admit it because she knows how hard it is to admit weakness, especially for someone like Quinn who grew up in a home where perceived weakness was severely and punitively punished.

But she doesn't like that Quinn's instinct is to come out swinging when she feels attacked or vulnerable. Rachel's grown up all her life with people like that-- all three of her parents and her sister, for instance.

She, however, instinctively recoils from conflict. And maybe this makes her pathetic, but she is truly a pacifist-- she _hates_ to fight. She just tends to either surrender or retreat. But in the worst case scenario, she just blows up and when that happens, she loses control completely. She doesn't feel ready to blow up, but she does feel the need to retreat for both their sakes.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says quietly. "I didn't mean to be such a bully."

"Okay," Rachel says. "I'll walk you to your car."

Quinn blinks. "You want me to go home?"

"For tonight," Rachel says softly. "Let's have lunch tomorrow."

Quinn swallows hard. "But I apologized to you," she whispers.

"I just need some time to myself for tonight," Rachel says. "Really. You know I don't like to play games," she murmurs reassuringly. "I'm frustrated. And I want to be alone."

"But I'm sorry," Quinn pleads quietly.

"Go home," Rachel says softly. "Neither of us are in a good state of mind. I think it's better if we spend tonight apart."

Quinn swallows hard. "You're that mad?"

Rachel wishes she could avoid this conversation. "I don't like it when you come at me like that, so yes, I'm angry. But I don't think I am as angry as you think I am. I just need some space away from you for tonight."

"Just for tonight, right?" Quinn presses. "You're not going to want to…take a break or anything…" she asks weakly, her voice trailing off.

For the first time, Rachel feels a little irritation at having to constantly reassure Quinn and placate her insecurities. But she suppresses the urge to be harsh and snippy because she knows the feeling will pass and she doesn't want to do irreparable harm just because she has the urge to be snooty at the moment. She understands her girlfriend doesn't mean to lash out at her, but she's not a whipping girl.

"No, I don't want a break," Rachel reassures. "I just want some space tonight. I love you, but everyone needs space."

Quinn swallows visibly, but nods. "Okay," she acquiesces finally. "I'm sorry," she says lowly after a beat. "I know you aren't attracted to him." She swallows hard. "And even if you were, there would be nothing wrong with that. I know it's normal."

"Attraction is normal," Rachel agrees. "But I assure you, I'm truly not attracted to Tim." She takes Quinn by the hand. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

She can see Quinn wants to protest and strong-arm her into capitulation-- Quinn will always be the bull to her china shop. But she's grateful when Quinn gives in.

She walks Quinn to her car-- their separation is a little emotional for both of them. She's ready to just leave Quinn with a brief kiss, but Quinn grabs her into a tight hug and won't let go, even after Rachel gently tries to pull away twice. After the third attempt to pull away, Rachel just pushes back on Quinn's shoulders and gently pushes her way toward her car.

Rachel walks back to her apartment after Quinn drives away and flops onto the sofa.

This isn't how she thought the night would end and she frankly finds it terribly disappointing.


	8. Chapter 8

She finds it hard to sleep. She tosses and turns restlessly, but in the back of her mind, she knows she's a cliché.

She wonders what would happen if they ever actually have a real fight. It's inevitable really, and Rachel tries not to think about it because it makes her anxious.

Rachel blames Quinn's father for everything, and she's once again filled with this impotent hatred for this man she's never met. It's awful because really, she can't _do_ anything about it. She doesn't know how this man could have struck Quinn's delicate skin with a belt. Quinn must have asked for leniency when she was younger, before she learned that it wouldn't be granted. Rachel doesn't understand how he could have looked into Quinn's eyes or heard her speak and still just _hurt_ her so much.

Rachel wants to be understanding, and most of the time, she is. But sometimes, when Quinn attacks her out of the blue like that, Rachel has a hard time with it.

She goes for a run at five am to clear her head. She doesn't want to break-up (no way) or take a break (no way), but she does make a pro-and-con list in her head and for every con, there are like, twenty pros.

She gets distracted by her own thoughts-- she really should be paying more attention to her surroundings, and trips over a tree root that is bursting through the sidewalk.

She's airborne for a moment and lands hard on both knees-- she doesn't even have the time to brace her fall, not that she could have. Her hands follow and she feels the sting of concrete in both palms.

It _hurts_ , but she's more embarrassed than anything else.

She knows she didn't break a knee cap or anything. But both her knees are scraped and bleeding, as are both her palms. She lifts up her right leg to check for range of motion and winces at how much it hurts. She does the same for her left leg and it hurts just as much. It hurts rising to her feet and it hurts to even walk, let alone run.

She curses herself because she's three miles from home and now she has to hobble three miles back.

It _really_ hurts and she wishes she'd brought her cell phone with her, but she'd left it at home to charge. She's sweating profusely because there's so much pain-- she thought it would get better if she just walks it off, but it just hurts even more.

She grits her teeth and tells herself to tough it out-- it's only three miles and she's been through worse. Three miles is usually nothing for her.

She makes it about a mile-- sweat pours from her body and her teeth grit in determination. She tries to keep her sense of humor even though it hurts. She pictures Santana shouting "way to walk, Poindexter!" at her and she's just glad the other girl wasn't around to witness her eat concrete.

There's a short honk behind her and Rachel turns around instinctively and sees Quinn driving up slowly.

"Baby?" Quinn calls out, after rolling down the window. "Are you okay?"

Rachel wants to sob in relief as she hobble in direction of the car.

Quinn's eyes widen in alarm when she sees the difficulty Rachel is having. She gets out of the car and runs to the brunette and helps Rachel into the car.

"What happened?" Quinn exclaims as she reaches across to buckle Rachel in. Her hands cup Rachel's face, peering into her eyes. "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? What happened?!"

"I fell about a mile back," Rachel explains. "I banged up my knees."

Quinn stares down at Rachel's knees which are bleeding from scrapes and swollen. "I'll take you to the Emergency Room!"

Rachel chuckles softly. Just being off them makes her feel better already. "It's nothing, I just fell. I think I just needed to sit." She sighs in relief. "Thank you, baby."

Quinn looks uncertain, but she shuts the door and runs around the front of the car to get back into the driver's seat. "Why didn't you _call_ me?"

"I left my phone at home," Rachel sighs. "I needed to charge it."

"That was very dumb," Quinn lectures. "What if there'd been an emergency?"

Rachel looks at her wryly. That sounds more like something she’d say as opposed to Quinn, though she would not have used the word ‘dumb.’ Foolhardy, perhaps.

Quinn chuckles. "Right."

"What are you doing up so early?" Rachel asks.

"I couldn't sleep," Quinn admits. "I've been driving around. I just got back from the Santa Monica Pier."

Rachel smiles a little as she thinks about that day she spent with her sister and Quinn at Santa Monica Pier. It still ranks as one of the best days of her life.

"I was on my way home, but I kind of wanted to see if maybe I'd see you. This is your route, you know?"

"Stalker," Rachel teases.

Quinn looks chagrined. "I'm sorry. I know you said you wanted space."

"I'm glad you're here," Rachel says sincerely. "I really missed you last night."

"So you aren't angry anymore?" Quinn asks quietly.

"No," Rachel says. "I'm not mad. But…we need to work on this, okay? I never did anything wrong enough for you to distrust me or come at me like that. We can't work if you keep doing that."

"I know," Quinn says quietly. "I'm trying to work on that."

"I know," Rachel replies softly. "And I'm trying to work on being…less passive-aggressive, I guess."

"You aren't," Quinn refutes quietly.

"I kind of am," Rachel chides gently. "You don't have to defend me."

They get back up to Rachel's apartment and Quinn helps her to her door, but once there, Quinn hesitates at the threshold, as if unsure of an invitation. This makes Rachel's heart twist with affection because Quinn has a key, so of course, she is always welcome.

"Get in here," Rachel says with a fond smile. "You'll never wear out your welcome."

Quinn smiles broadly and she rushes inside and throws her arms around Rachel. "Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," Rachel murmurs. She rubs her nose on Quinn's cheek. "Go wait for me in bed. I'm going to shower."

“I could give you a bath,” Quinn offers shyly. “Take care of you.”

Rachel chuckles. “But if I take a bath, I’m just stewing in my own filth.”

Quinn looks a little disappointed. “Okay,” she says.

“Maybe we can take a bath after I shower,” Rachel murmurs.

Quinn lights up. “Okay,” she says, beaming.

Rachel’s had bad falls in dance classes before and has worked through pain, so she’s more embarrassed than anything else, but she’s surprised by how much her knees still hurt. She’s fallen while running before, too, and she knows it’s nothing more than sore knees and she’s being a big baby, but as she showers, she finds herself wincing at how much it still hurts.

‘Maybe I’m getting old,’ she thinks to herself with a chuckle, which is sort of silly because she’s not even twenty yet, though she will be soon

She finishes showering, gets out and wraps a towel around her. She lowers the toilet lid down and sits down on top of it with a low groan. She calls Quinn into the bathroom who comes in a few minutes later with two homemade icepacks.

“I thought you might need them,” Quinn says softly.

Rachel gives her a small smile while they wait for the bathtub to fill up. “Thank you.”

It’s silent between them as they watch the bath fill, but it feels oppressive rather than comfortable and Rachel feels the need to fill it.

“I really did miss you last night,” Rachel murmurs.

“I missed you, too,” Quinn says, her throat working. “I’m sorry.”

Rachel nods. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s over. It’s done.”

It’s not okay, exactly. But it’s not a huge deal, either.

“Okay,” Quinn says quietly.

“I really want to be with you,” Rachel murmurs. “I really want things to work. More than anything.”

“Me too,” Quinn says softly.

Quinn crouches down in front of Rachel and peers down at Rachel’s knees which are already showing the beginnings of bruising and swelling. “What did you do to yourself, baby?” she asks softly. She presses the ice packs to each of her knees.

“I was a clumsy oaf,” Rachel chuckles. The ice packs stings, but it also feels good. “I tripped over a tree root and went flying. I’m sure to outside observers it was quite comical.”

“No one stopped to help you?”

“There aren’t a lot of people around that early,” Rachel points out.

There had been a few cars on the road, but she’s certain that they didn’t see her.

“I hate LA,” Quinn mutters.

Rachel chuckles. “And the people of Austin are better?”

“They are!” Quinn exclaims. “If someone saw you having such a hard time walking, they’d at least stop to ask if you’re okay!”

“I think you’re exaggerating the Southern hospitality of Austin now that you don’t live there anymore.”

Rachel has no such delusions about her hometown. If someone from Lima had seen her hobbling down the street, she would have just been an easier, slower-moving target for a hurled Slushie or some other food item.

The bath fills up and Rachel adds her favorite bath salts and she and Quinn get into the tub. Quinn sits behind her and Rachel leans into her girlfriend, Quinn’s breasts pressing into her back. She keeps the ice packs on her knees.

Rachel sighs in contentment.

“We should make this a thing,” Rachel murmurs. “Maybe once a week after my weekly tub scrub.”

Quinn laughs and starts massaging Rachel’s scalp. “That would be nice.”

They both grow quiet after that and Rachel starts to nod off, but she becomes alert again when she feels Quinn take one of her hands.

Quinn’s eyes gaze up and down Rachel’s scraped palm and she brings Rachel’s hand to her lips.

“You’re maimed,” Quinn comments with a gentle laugh.

Rachel chuckles lowly. “Does this mean you don’t want me anymore?”

“Yes, exactly,” Quinn murmurs as she kisses the side of Rachel’s neck. She nuzzles Rachel’s neck. “After all, who could accept a flaw as big as two scraped knees and two scraped palms?”

“My knees are quite bruised and are swelling,” Rachel points out with a little indignation at the implication that the only thing paining her are scraped knees and not the fact that she was actually airborne before her knees hit concrete.

“Well, I wasn’t going to be rude and point that out, but now that you mention it…” Quinn jokes.

Rachel gently moves her elbow back, digging it into Quinn’s ribs. “And here I thought you would eventually leave me because of my nose.”

“Only if you break it,” Quinn teases.

Rachel laughs. “Well, then. That nose job I was going to ask my parents for as my graduation present is out of the question because they have to break my nose to fix it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Quinn says, her voice becoming serious. “Don’t _ever_ get a nose job.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow. “Why not?” she asks curiously. She didn’t peg Quinn as having such a strong stance against plastic surgery, and she was only kidding about asking her parents for a nose job as a present for when she graduates. Her parents would never do it anyway-- they would unreasonably freak out if she asked. She already tried in high school so she knows this for a fact. But she’s surprised by the vehemence in Quinn’s voice.

“I love your nose,” Quinn says quietly as her hand lifts up her right index finger gently taps against the bridge of Rachel’s nose.

Rachel giggles. “I love _your_ nose.”

Quinn giggles and runs her finger across Rachel’s lower lip. “I love your lips.”

“I love _your_ lips,” Rachel says, still giggling. She brings Quinn’s hand up to her lips and kisses the center of the back of Quinn’s left hand. “I love your hands. They’re beautiful.”

“My hands are _huge_ ,” Quinn disagrees. “They’re like Manhands. I love _your_ hands. They’re so little and cute.”

“You don’t have Manhands,” Rachel refutes, because while Quinn’s fingers are quite long, they’re slender and graceful. She kisses each of the knuckles. “Your hands are pretty. My fingers are like breakfast sausages," she says, holding up her right hand and wiggling her fingers. "See?"

Quinn giggles. "They are not! They're perfect. I love your hands."

"I love _your_ hands. Yours are way prettier."

"No, I love your hands. _Your_ hands are prettier."

Rachel knows it’s nauseating that they do this-- this whole, “I love you"/"No, I love you more” thing is objectively sort of dumb. What’s next? Sitting around for hours talking about how great it is that they are in love? And yet, pathetically enough, that doesn’t sound so bad to Rachel.

"Don't ever get a nose job," Quinn says quietly. "You-you're really kind of perfect the way you are," she says shyly.

Rachel swallows the lump that suddenly rose in her throat. She's not sure why that makes her so emotional-- Quinn is always telling her that she is beautiful, but it just hits her that Quinn really does love her. The most perfect looking girl she's ever seen thinks _she's_ perfect looking. She can't stop grinning.

\--

After the bath, they move into the bedroom and go through various skincare regimes before they get dressed.

Quinn clucks in sympathy at the bruising to Rachel’s knees which have become even worse.

“It’s not that bad.” Rachel murmurs. “Really.”

“It looks like it really hurts,” Quinn says softly.

“That’s because it does,” Rachel jokes, cracking a huge grin. It hurts, but Quinn seems more bothered by it than she is.

Quinn swats at her shoulder. “Shut it, I may still dump you for your scraped knees and palms, you know.”

“Well, _I_ may still dump you for that little mark you got on your finger when you got that splinter!”

“That was last week,” Quinn says smugly, sticking said finger in Rachel’s face, close to Rachel’s eye. “It’s not even there anymore, therefore your reason to dump me is invalid.”

Rachel grins. “So’s your face.”

“My face is invalid?”

“Yes. Like your argument.”

“ _I_ said your arguments were invalid.”

“So’s your face.”

“Really, you’re doing this?”

“So’s your face.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“So’s your face always makes sense, Quinn. It’s what makes it the perfect argument which can never be invalidated.”

“I demand you demonstrate that via mathematical proof.”

“I’m a music and theatre major, what makes you think I could do that?”

“What, like you aren’t a huge math nerd?”

Rachel isn’t actually, but she has a tendency to make a lot of mathematics metaphors. It’s a little weird considering she has no inclination to study it, though she always did excel in it.

“Okay, I will prove it to you,” Rachel says amiably.

Her backpack happens to be in her bedroom, so she grabs a notebook and a pen out of it and immediately begins writing furiously. When she is done, she shows it to Quinn.

_Prove: So’s Your Face Is An Argument That Always Makes Sense_

_Given: Rachel Berry is Perfect_

_Statements:_

  1. _Rachel Berry is Perfect (Reasons: Given)_
  2. _Any Argument a Perfect Being Makes is Also Perfect (Reasons: A Perfect Person Cannot Make An Imperfect or Invalid Argument by Virtue of The Individual’s Perfection; Given)_
  3. _Rachel Berry Makes the Argument that ‘So’s Your Face Is An Argument That Always Makes Sense.'_



_Therefore: ‘So’s Your Face’ always makes sense because Rachel Berry is Perfect._

Once Rachel is finished, she shows it to Quinn with flourish.

Quinn takes it and eyes it suspiciously. "Did you even do this correctly?”

“Please see the given, Quinn,” Rachel says primly, trying to suppress a grin.

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Seriously,” she presses.

“It’s what I remember from my geometry class my freshman year in high school,” Rachel admits. “So probably not. I think it involves a grid, actually.”

“Your argument is now invalid!” Quinn says triumphantly. “A perfect person would have been able to structure this correctly.”

With a huff, Rachel grabs the paper away. “I will revise."

She gets to work, but knowing she’s pressed for time, she can’t put all the effort she wants into it.

Finally, she passes it to Quinn, who looks at her expectantly before taking it.

Rachel watches as Quinn’s expression softens as the blonde reads her new proof.

Rachel smiles. “It’s true,” she says quietly.

_The Following is Proof that Rachel Berry loves Quinn Fabray_

**_Given: Quinn Fabray is Perfection in the Eyes of Rachel Berry_ **

_Quinn Fabray=Perfection in the Eyes of Rachel Berry_

_Statements:_

  1. _**Quinn Fabray is kind** (Given)_



_Quinn Fabray= Kindness_

  1. _**Quinn Fabray Truly Understands Rachel Berry** (Given)_



_Quinn Fabray= Understanding_

  1. _**Quinn Fabray Supports Rachel Berry** (Given)_



_Quinn Fabray= Unconditional Support_

  1. _**Quinn Fabray is Beautiful** (Given)_



_Quinn Fabray= Beauty_

_If the great poet, John Keats is to be believed, Beauty is Truth, and Truth is Beauty_

_Beauty=Truth, Truth=Beauty_

**_Quinn Fabray is the perfect representation of truth and beauty:_ **

_Quinn Fabray=Truth=Beauty_

**_And because Rachel Berry loves truth and beauty_ **

_Rachel Berry <3 truth and beauty_

_And since_

_truth=beauty=Quinn_

_Therefore: Rachel <3 Quinn_

_And it must be true, because truth is there in the equation._

“You’re such a nerd,” Quinn says quietly, but she gives Rachel a sunny smile.

Rachel grins. “It was the best I could do off the top of my head. I don’t think the construction of my proof is right, but the logic is sound and infallible and in that regard, it's perfect.”

Quinn swallows hard. “I love you, too," she says softly.

Rachel smiles. “I know.”

“Come closer,” Quinn whispers, putting her arms around Rachel’s waist and pulling Rachel toward her before she kisses her.

\--

The weeks pass and soon it’s mid-November. Rachel's sister's birthday is almost exactly a month before hers and so Rachel and Quinn make the trek down to San Diego to celebrate Audrey's 19th birthday. Rachel loathes the one month period every year in which she and Audrey are the same age. It's the same thing every year-- for whatever reason, Audrey gets cockier just because they're both the same age. Rachel curses their 11 month age difference .

Rachel knows Audrey doesn't approve of Quinn, but she hopes that will change. Audrey's stance softened slightly after Quinn accompanied them to Lima for their grandmother's funeral, but it's still pretty harsh. Rachel curses herself for crying to Audrey about what Quinn said when they were just starting to date nearly a year ago. It's just that she truly thought Quinn wasn't attracted to her and there was no hope for their relationship. She needed to cry about it, and growing up her sister was her closest confidant. There are certain things she's always kept to herself-- she's never told Audrey about the constant Slushies and name-calling in high school because they went to different schools, but Audrey sort of figured that out for herself. It's just that the memory of being so unpopular still embarrasses Rachel, and the shame and humiliation was even more acute when she was actually still a high school student. She's never told Audrey about who/when/how she lost her virginity because that memory embarrasses her, too. She's never told Audrey about her pregnancy scare with Mike and she never told her when she was pregnant with Jesse's baby. She never told Audrey about the abortion. In fact, the only way Audrey found out was because their mother chased Jesse six blocks in an effort to beat the living hell out of him.

So there are a myriad of things she's deemed too embarrassing, painful or personal to tell her baby sister, but the thing with Quinn-- _that_ was the one that hurt enough that Rachel just needed to _talk_ to someone she trusted. And well, Audrey is her little sister, but Audrey is also the centre of her world, her partner in crime.

But that decision to confide in her sister carries repercussions that extend to this day.

Rachel doesn't want to choose between her sister and Quinn.

Audrey is cold toward Quinn for the duration of the visit and Rachel really wants to tackle her sister to the ground, sit on her stomach and threaten to spit in her eye like she did when they were kids, but she refrains.

Quinn is such a good sport despite Audrey's overt hostility. Rachel calls Audrey out on it multiple times, but she keeps doing it, and soon Rachel just snaps.

On the last day of their three day visit, Rachel can't stand how Audrey keeps ignoring her when she tells Audrey to cut out that _tone_ she's taking with Quinn. Quinn's been so patient with the whole thing and never snipes back, Rachel rage bursts like a dam.

She tackles her sister to the floor of her dorm room, ignoring the way her sister wails and tries to throw her off. Rachel coughs up some saliva and lets it hang by a thread out of her mouth. It dangles and she slurps it back up.

"I'm going to spit in your eye!" Rachel threatens.

Audrey shrieks and tries to cover her face, but Rachel grabs Audrey's hands and holds them down.

"Say you're sorry!" Rachel yells.

"No!" Audrey wails. "Never!" She looks defiant and angry.

"Say you're sorry or I'll spit in your eye!" Rachel warns, letting her spit dangle over Audrey's face again.

"No!" Audrey screams. "Don't do it! Not in my face! Not in my _eye_!"

Rachel slurps the spit back up. She hasn't done this since she was ten years old, but it's kind of like riding a bicycle. "Apologize to Quinn or I'll spit in your eye!" She lets the saliva dangle again.

Audrey gives in. "Fine! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Say 'I'm sorry, Quinn!'"

"I'm sorry, Quinn!"

"Say 'I'm _very_ sorry, Quinn!'"

"I'm very sorry, Quinn!"

"Sing the sorry song!"

Audrey shrieks. "No!"

"I'll spit in your eye!"

Quinn interrupts. "No one is spitting in anyone's eye. Rachel, get off your sister. And go into the bathroom and spit. That was disgusting."

Chagrined, as she remembers she's not ten years old anymore and yes, what she just did is, in fact, really gross, Rachel climbs off her sister who bounces to her feet and slugs Rachel in the arm as hard as she can. Annoyed, Rachel pulls her fist back to punch her sister in retaliation, but Quinn grabs her hand.

"Go into the bathroom and spit," Quinn says, giving Rachel a hard slap to the butt.

Rachel looks at her resentfully and rubs her butt-- that felt like a real spanking rather than a sexy spanking. "You hit my tooshie," she says sourly before she can stop herself. She pouts when she sees Quinn's lips quirk in amusement.

Rachel walks out of her sister's dorm room and down the hall to the communal bathroom. She's glad she missed this part of college life because dormitory dwelling is definitely not for her.

She spits into a sink and makes a face. That was pretty disgusting. She rinses her mouth out with water before she returns back to her sister's dorm room.

"I'm going to kill you," Audrey threatens. "I'm telling on you!"

Rachel sneers at her. "Big baby."

"How could you do that to me?! It's my birthday weekend!"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You had that coming and you know it."

Audrey does have the good grace to look a little chagrined.

"Sorry, Quinn," Audrey says sulkily.

"It's okay, Audrey," Quinn says. "I get it."

"I'm going to shower," Audrey says, getting up and grabbing her robe and shower caddy. "Who knows what kind of grosses diseases you gave me by sitting on me," she grumps as she leaves the room.

Quinn shakes her head as she looks at Rachel. "Have you ever actually spat in her eye?"

Rachel makes a face. "Of course not," she says affronted. "That would be terribly unhygienic."

"I just saw you pull spit back into your mouth. I haven't seen anyone do that past the age of ten. And _now_ you're talking about hygiene?"

Rachel grins. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"After what I saw you do with that mouth?" Quinn questions. But she smiles broadly. "No way."

Rachel moves toward her. "Kiss me."

Quinn scampers away. "No!"

"Kiss me!"

Giggling, Quinn runs out of the room. "No!"

Rachel chases her down the hallway. "I demand you kiss me!"

Quinn glances over her shoulder to shout "never!"

Rachel and Quinn run down the hallway, giggling. At the end of the hallway, Quinn turns around and playfully tries to maneuver around Rachel while Rachel grandiosely pretends to attempt to capture her. Quinn runs past her and Rachel gives chase.

Giggling, they reach Audrey's dorm room, only to realize they're locked out.

They stare at one another with wide eyes and burst into laughter. They're still outside the room, laughing and playfully blaming one another when Audrey returns from her shower.

Audrey stares at them. "You locked us out?!"

"You didn't take your keys?" Rachel asks.

"Because you two were in there!"

"Well, that was very foolish of you," Rachel says primly.

Audrey and Rachel stare at one another for a moment. Rachel tries desperately not to laugh despite the fact Audrey looks furious.

"You look just like mom when you're mad," Rachel says, trying to keep a straight face, but she immediately breaks into laughter.

Next to her, Quinn snorts to conceal her laughter.

"Seriously," Audrey says. "I'm going to kill you."

\--

They manage to get the key back into the room from the RA.

The rest of thedayt goes smoothly-- Audrey is extra polite to Quinn, though exaggeratedly so. It annoys Rachel, but not enough to let it get to fisticuffs.

\--

When Rachel and Quinn leave, Rachel is a little embarrassed she regressed into her ten year old self, but in all honesty, she has no regrets kind-of beating up her little sister-- something had to give.

\--

Another week passes and it's time for Thanksgiving.

Audrey grudgingly goes home to Lima for Thanksgiving and Rachel contemplates following, but chooses to go home with Quinn to Austin instead.

\--

It’s awkward at first considering what happened during Quinn’s last visit home, but a trait of the Fabray family seems to be pretending things didn’t happen, and Rachel is perfectly willing to go along with that since it's a trait the Corcoran/Berry family shares, too.

\--

Rachel used to be more stringent about a vegan diet, but she’s significantly relaxed her stance since she started college. If she only needs to be concerned about her own caloric intake, she’ll always go vegan, but if she’s cooking for others who like meat and dairy or out with friends or Quinn, she’ll just hope for a vegetarian option.

Judy is the cook in the family and Rachel happily helps her prepare the meal. She’s not a fan of turkey in general, even before she decided she’d prefer not to eat meat, but everyone in Quinn’s family seems to like it and she doesn’t want any of them to eat tofurkey on her behalf.

It’s a traditional Thanksgiving dinner which Rachel can appreciate. Her family doesn’t really do Thanksgiving because it was always too volatile when she was younger. She can still remember terrible screaming arguments between her mother and her fathers about holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving when she was growing up.

They finally got a rigid family law order when she was six, but she can remember how heated the arguments became. Ultimately, Thanksgiving turned into one of those holidays they didn’t celebrate with a dinner because if she spent it with her mother and sister, it would just be the three of them and if she spent it with her fathers and her sister, it would just be the four of them, and none of the parents had ever been willing to split her and her sister up on holidays.

It seemed kind of a waste to make a huge dinner for only three or four people and just way too much drama, so it seemed easier to forego the holiday entirely and the day was just split for the principle of it.

Last Thanksgiving, Rachel spent it with Quinn who chose not to go home to Austin. Rachel was touched when Quinn recently admitted the reason she chose not to go home was because Rachel said she wasn’t going home and staying in LA, and Quinn wanted to keep her company. They just got dinner in a Chinese restaurant, but Rachel still counts it as the best Thanksgiving she can remember.

This year, Rachel is spending it with Quinn, her mother, her sister and Zoey’s fiancé and she has high hopes because everyone seems to be in a good mood despite a little awkward tension.

\--

The dinner goes well and Rachel has never been so stuffed in her life. Afterward, she and Quinn lounge on Quinn’s bed, groaning about how much they ate.

“I’m a tick,” Rachel groans, as she lies on her back. She waves her arms and legs in the air. “Eeee. Eeee. A tiiiiick that is on its back and can't mooooove.”

Quinn laughs. “You look so silly when you do that.”

Rachel tries to eat very moderate portions-- she constantly has the voices of her parents in her head making commentary about her weight and its impact on her career. But like anyone, she overeats sometimes. When she was younger, she'd purge herself-- her insecurities about weight were that severe. But now, despite the fact she worries about her weight, she mostly pretends to be a bloated tick on its back because it always makes Quinn laugh when she does.

“Well, you would look pretty silly, too,” Rachel shoots back.

Quinn raises an eyebrow and puts her arms and legs in the air. “Eee. Eee,” she creaks out.

Rachel bursts into laughter. “Baby, you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” Quinn says. “And I’m stunning, and I _still_ look ridiculous, so imagine how _you_ look, you pretty little midget.”

“Don’t you think ‘little midget’ is redundant?”

“I like it even if it is, pretty little midget,” Quinn says, grinning crookedly.

Rachel chuckles and sits up so she can press a kiss directly on Quinn’s lips. “Not all of us can be a tall, beautiful swan, darling.”

Quinn smiles. “I’ll always be your ugly duckling, baby.”

“Me too,” Rachel grins. “We have the t-shirts to prove it, remember?”

Quinn laughs. “Yeah.”

Sometimes, when she's feeling especially dorky, Rachel insists she and Quinn sleep in their matching 'The Ugly Ducklings' t-shirts. She loves Quinn for always indulging.

Neither of them say anything for a while until Quinn breaks the silence.

“I think I want to see my dad before we go back to LA.”

Rachel pauses, caught off guard, but recovers quickly. “Okay,” she says. “Do you want me to go with you? I’d like to.”

“I’d really like it if you did. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I talked to my therapist about it. I think I’m ready.”

Rachel smiles. “Good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Quinn exhales shakily. “Now I have to talk to my mom and my sister about it.”

“I think your mom should be okay.”

“Yeah,” Quinn says. “But I think Zoey is going to be pissed.”

“We’ll handle it,” Rachel says confidently. She’s not as confident about it as she pretends to be, because Zoey Fabray honestly intimidates her. But she knows she needs to be tough for Quinn’s sake.

“I know,” Quinn says softly.

\--

They linger longer in Quinn's room, primarily because they're too full to move, but partly because Quinn is trying to gather the emotional resolve to talk to her mother and her sister. It's not that she's afraid, but saying "I want to see dad" out loud just makes it likely to happen and that prospect scares her shitless.

By the time that full feeling in their bellies starts to disappear, Quinn is ready to emerge from her room. But by this point, Zoey and Dan have already gone back to their own home. Quinn seems a little hurt they didn't stop in to say goodbye, but Rachel would like to believe the family was just giving her and Quinn privacy. In any case, Quinn decides to speak to her mother about arranging for a meeting with her father and Rachel is very proud.

\--

Rachel isn’t present for the talk Quinn has with Judy, but when Quinn comes back to the room, she’s smiling, so it must have gone well.

“We called Zoey and she said she and Dan would come with us,” Quinn says. She pauses. “And she wasn’t mad. She said she kind of wants to see him, too.”

Rachel smiles. “That’s great, baby. Is your mom going to come with us?”

Quinn shakes her head. “No, it’ll just be us and my dad and his partner. But my mom called him to arrange it. We’re having dinner on Saturday. That’s okay with you, right? You’re not busy?”

Rachel bites her lip to keep from smiling. “Let me check my schedule,” she says with a straight face. She’s not sure what Quinn thinks she’ll be doing while she’s visiting Quinn’s hometown, but she is curious.

Quinn blushes, but grins. “I was just being polite.”

“Yes, you were, gorgeous and I appreciate your practice of etiquette.”

Quinn grins at her and reaches for Rachel’s hand. “Thanks for doing this with me.”

Rachel smiles lopsidedly. “Well, I haven’t done anything yet. Who knows, maybe a meteor will hit earth sometime before Saturday’s dinner and wipe out all life on earth. Then your expression of gratitude would have been woefully premature and what will you do then?”

Quinn shakes her head and rolls her eyes at that shameless display of profound nerdiness. “I guess the meteor will leave me no choice but to be okay with that.”

Rachel grins teasingly. "Well, I don't know about you, but when I say 'thank you,' I'd like it to be for something and not…vestigial."

" _Vestigial_?"

Rachel shrugs. "It sort of makes sense."

Quinn shake her head. "You're lucky you're cute."

Rachel grins. "Am I?"

"I guess I won't know for sure that you're lucky unless you win the lottery."

"I meant, am I cute," Rachel informs dryly.

Quinn chuckles. "Oh." She pauses. "No," she says with a straight face. "I was just saying it."

Rachel grabs a pillow and with a cry of mock outrage, hits Quinn with it.

Quinn giggles. "Ow!" she yelps. She grabs the other pillow and slams Rachel with it. "Abuse! Abuse!" she cries out, as she continues to hit Rachel with the pillow.

Laughing, Rachel scampers away. She scrambles off the bed and then in her socked feet glides on the hardwood floor in Quinn's bedroom. "Quinn!" she cries in an exaggerated manner. "I thought you were my friend!"

Quinn bursts into deliriously amused laughter. Even after she stops laughing, it takes her a moment to catch her breath. When she finally does, she softly murmurs, "come here," and extends her arm out to Rachel.

Rachel's laughter dies down. Smiling, she takes a few steps forward to bridge the gap between them. Once she's close enough, Quinn reaches out with her leg, and hooks her calf behind Rachel's back, pulling her even closer.

Rachel stumbles slightly, falling into Quinn. "Hey you," she says quietly, with a small smile.

"Hey you," Quinn echoes.

They smile at one another and stay that way for a moment.

"Hey you," Rachel repeats.

Quinn smiles broadly with fond affection. "Hey you," she murmurs. Her hand reaches up to gently caress Rachel's face. Rachel leans into Quinn's hand. "I just felt like reminding you that I _am_ your friend," she murmurs.

Rachel beams at her. "I know," she murmurs. She leans forward, which propels her into Quinn, and pushes Quinn onto her back. With a low moan, her lips find Quinn's.


	9. Chapter 9

Even Zoey, who seems a model for a Hitchcock icy blonde seems nervous. Quinn's mother has an appointment with a client, so when Zoey and Dan come to pick up Rachel and Quinn, Judy is not in the house. Dan is driving and Zoey gets out of the front passenger seat to sit in the backseat with Quinn. Rachel sits in the front passenger seat and looks through the passenger side mirror into the backseat and sees Quinn and Zoey holding hands.

It's a sight that would typically make Rachel smile, except that both Quinn and her sister look so afraid. Zoey is 28 years old, and though Rachel would not consider that old, she used to think she'd stop being afraid of her parents by that age. She thinks Russell Fabray must have been pretty awful if Zoey, who seems tougher than Quinn, looks so afraid.

\--

Rachel and Dan trail behind Quinn and Zoey who walk ahead of them into the restaurant.

Zoey chose the restaurant-- Italian. Russell and his partner are already there when they arrive.

Rachel sees the way Quinn and her sister freeze when they see them and Quinn trembles a little before Zoey puts her arm protectively around Quinn's shoulders and they all join the table.

Russell stands up to greet them.

'He's handsome,' Rachel thinks. He's not particularly tall for a man, or even that intimidating, but she pictures his features contorted in rage and she think he must have been very intimidating indeed for a small child or a pre-adolescent. It's a bit inappropriate, but if he'd been one of her professors, she's fairly sure she would have had a crush on him.

"Zoey, Quinn," Russell says, smiling. "Thank you for coming."

He sounds relieved.

Zoey's posture is very straight like she's trying to look taller, but looks smaller than Rachel's ever seen her. When Russell moves toward them, he moves toward Quinn first and Quinn shrinks away.

Russell swallows hard and takes a few steps back.

"Girls, this is my partner, Jacob Sherman," Russell says quietly, gesturing to a man with a disconcerting resemblance to Glenn Beck.

Zoey is cold as she gestures to Dan and says "this is Dan."

Quinn seems to follow suit because she gestures to Rachel and says equally as unemotionally, "this is Rachel."

Rachel can already sense this is not going to go very well.

They make awkward small talk about the weather, the quality of the food and whether or not to get an appetizer as they peruse their menus.

But once their food and drinks have been ordered, the real ordeal begins.  
\--

Quinn and Zoey are silent while Russell and Jacob do all the talking. Rachel glances at Dan and can sense that he is seething. A person wouldn’t know it just by looking at him or meeting him for the first time, but he's so sweet and affable and there's none of that now. She's only known him a short time, but she's never seen his face look like that.

Rachel just tries to keep a low profile-- she's accustomed to trying to stay off a parent's radar, but she usually fails and this time is no different. Russell seems to sense she is the weakest link, just as she's always been, because he turns his attention toward her once he sees that Quinn, Zoey and Dan do not plan to speak to him more than they have to.

"Rachel," he says, putting his arm across the table to put his hand on her arm.

This mostly innocuous gesture sets Quinn, Zoey and Dan on edge.

Quinn just scowls, but Zoey glares daggers. Dan stands to his feet.

"Get your hand off her," Dan hisses.

Russell looks furious, and Rachel sees what he must have looked like to Quinn and Zoey when they were growing up.

He's terrifying.

Jacob looks infuriated. "He was just being polite."

"Then maybe you should ask him what he did to my little sister the day he walked out on us," Zoey says, her voice steely. "Was he just being polite then? Get your hands off Rachel."

Rachel glances at Quinn-- this is the second time she's heard Zoey make reference to that day.

Everyone is so agitated and Rachel feels the need to play peacemaker.

"Mr. Fabray," she says quietly. "Was there something you wished to ask me?"

He smiles at her. "Tell me a little about yourself, Rachel."

She shifts uncomfortably. "What would you like to know, sir?"

"What are you majoring in?"

"I'm a double major in Music Performance and Theatre."

She can see the disapproval written on his face. She shrinks a little under his glare-- he can be so frightening.

The others must have seen it, too, because Zoey speaks up immediately.

"You don't have to worry about anyone asking you for money, dad. She makes good money as a musician. She's already a local favorite. She'll be able to support herself, and Quinn if necessary." Zoey pauses for a beat. "And a family if they choose to start one." Zoey snorts in derision. "Not that you would know anything about that, would you, dad? Supporting your family?"

Russell looks furious and Jacob opens his mouth to speak, but Russell puts his hand on Jacob's arm to silence him.

Rachel has to admire his self-control because Zoey is clearly baiting him, and he's resisting the urge to snap.

Russell takes a deep breath and focuses his attention toward Rachel again. "Where are you from, Rachel?"

"Ohio," Rachel says quietly. "It's a small town. Likely one you've never heard of-- Lima."

"What do your parents do?"

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, but Quinn cuts in.

"Leave her alone," her tone is quiet and her voice is low.

Russell seems to take a moment where he visibly tells himself not to react to Quinn's tone. He seems to gain control of himself, but he gazes at Quinn for a long moment before he speaks. "You look so beautiful, Quinnie."

"Thank-you," Quinn replies, averting her eyes.

"What are you studying in school, Quinn?"

Quinn clears her throat. "English and Economics," she mumbles.

Russell raises an eyebrow. "Why the English major?"

Zoey glares. "Because it was her favorite subject in school. And you aren't paying a dime, so why are you questioning her? She can study what she wants."

"I'm getting tired of your hostile tone, young lady. If you didn't want to be here, you shouldn't have come. I'm just trying to have a conversation with the daughter who knows how to keep a decent tongue in her mouth."

“I would watch how you speak to her if I were you,” Dan says lowly, his voice at least an octave lower than usual. A volcanic eruption of his anger seems imminent. He's simmering right now, but if things don't cool down, he's going to reach a boiling point.

"Well, I wasn't going to let her come here without me," Zoey snaps.

"I have made mistakes," Russell says lowly. "But I'm trying to correct them. I am still your father and I deserve respect."

Zoey stares at him incredulously. "Daddy," she says venomously, saying the word like it's a curse. "You broke my 12 year old sister's arm the night you left just because she was asking you where you were going, and you want us to respect you? You call that a ‘mistake’? Because I call it a felony. The only reason we're here is we want to prove to you that we were better off without you. Mom, Quinn and I are all fine, and we did it without you. And if I'd been home the night you walked out instead of in school, I would have called the police and I wouldn't have covered up for you the way mom and Quinn did. I would have made sure the police took you away in handcuffs.”

Rachel stares at Russell in horror and she looks to Quinn for confirmation of what Zoey just said.

Quinn hangs her head and from the expression on Quinn’s face, Rachel knows that it’s true. Quinn is six inches taller than she is, but Quinn has never looked so tiny to Rachel than as she does at this moment. Quinn is close to tears.

Even Jacob looks horrified. He just stares at Russell like he’s seeing him for the first time.

Rachel feels the need to say something, anything, to keep the peace. But this man broke her girlfriend’s arm when she was just a young girl and Rachel does not want to diffuse the situation to diminish his guilt. If she could get away with it, she’d kill him with her bare hands.

Rachel is so angry right now, she can hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. She feels like she's going to explode. She wants to make him hurt. Oh God, how she wants to make him hurt. The things she would do to him…but her fury stops when she has the cold realization that she would be just like him-- unable to manage her anger.

Russell looks at Quinn beseechingly. "Quinn, I wanted to see you girls, but particularly you because I wanted to make amends to both of you. Especially to you."

"You don't make amends for that kind of thing!" Zoey shrieks. "You broke her arm! She was in a cast for almost three months, that's how bad it was!"

The entire restaurant looks at them and a waiter walks over to ask if everything is okay, but there's warning in his eyes. If they don't keep it down, they'll get kicked out.

"Quinn," Russell says urgently, ignoring Zoey entirely. "Quinnie. I know I have a lot to make up for with you, but I was very misguided and--"

Quinn raises her hand up, interrupting him. "Did you know I was gay?" she asks quietly. "When I was little," she clarifies.

He swallows noticeably. "Yes, I did," he admits.

"If you were gay yourself, why were you so hard on me?"

"I felt it was a sin," Russell says, eager to explain. "I wasn't acting on my impulses and I felt that if I could ensure that you never would either, I could secure your salvation. It was misguided, but it was out of love. I'm sorry, Quinn. I've made mistakes, especially with you. But I want to make amends. I want a relationship with my girls. And that night I left-- all I wanted to do was leave the home. It was all I could think about. And I am so sorry I hurt you that way. I did not think I hurt you that bad. I didn't know/"

Rachel seethes. Okay, so maybe he's sorry about that night, but what about all the other nights that came before it? Rachel knows of the abuse he inflicted on Quinn, even when she was so young, she would barely be considered out of toddler-hood. Rachel can't believe it was due to this man's idea of 'love.' She can't believe her girlfriend is as kind as she is growing up with him for twelve years. She hates him. She hate him so much and yes, he seems contrite and the things he did are in the past-- maybe even the significant past depending on a person's barometer for that sort of thing. He may be a different sort of man now. But all Rachel can think about is how she can make this man pay and pay dearly.

But Quinn seems to contemplate it. "Okay," she says quietly, accepting it.

Everyone looks at her, identical looks of confusion.

"Okay?" Rachel presses softly, incredulous.

Quinn looks at her, teary-eyed. "I want to go home," she says quietly.

Dan and Zoey are on their feet instantly.

"Let's go," Zoey says.

Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand and squeezes it because she senses that Quinn is not done.

Quinn turns to her father and she's trembling and terrified, but she soldiers on. "I heard you. I think I understand. But I'm going. I can't do this right now. I wasn't ready. This was a bad idea. "

He reaches for her. "Quinn--"

Dan steps in. "Mr. Fabray. I strongly urge you to reconsider laying a hand anyone in my family."

Dan is a six foot four teddy bear, but he can certainly be imposing when he wants to be.

Russell withdraws his hand. "Quinn. Zoey," he says, looking at each of them in turn. "I'd like for us to repair our relationship. Please stay," he pleads. "The food hasn't even arrived yet. I think we can get through a meal together, don't you?"

"Just answer me this," Zoey says, ignoring the question, and still percolating with hostility. "Do you need an organ from one of us? Or for us to give bone marrow or something? Because I can't think of any other scenario in which you'd apologize or claim you want a relationship with us when you didn't care about that for eight years. You really didn't even care when you were still around."

"We're having a baby-- a little girl…" Jacob cuts in softly. "Through a surrogate," he clarifies. "We'd like for you to be involved in her life."

Zoey and Quinn exchange incredulous glances.

"So you came to tell us we've been replaced?" Zoey asks, her voice cracking slightly. "You throw us away and then eight years later, you come back to tell us you're replacing us? That's why you're here?!"

Rachel bites down on her lower lip. This is kind hitting too close to home for her.

"No one could ever replace either of you," Russell says quietly. "I want us all to have a relationship. I want you girls to have a relationship with your sister."

"Maybe I'll be involved with the kid's life," Zoey sneers. "But only to make sure you aren't beating the crap out of her the way you used to do to us. Are you going to make her get down on her knees for hours and recite Bible verses, too? Or was that a thrill saved just for us? Do I get to tell her to hold still as she can when you're hitting her with a belt, because if she moves too much, that'll just make you angrier, and make everything longer and worse?"

"Zoey…" Russell says quietly.

"I don't want a relationship with you," Zoey sneers. "You may have been my father, but you're not anymore. You are dead to me and the only thing I'm grateful for from this terrible night is that I finally get to tell you that I don't have a father."

Russell nods. "I hope you will find some peace, Zoey, and come to reconsider."

"Fuck your AA bullshit," Zoey hisses. "You're an alcoholic, philanderer, wife beater and child abuser. You don't deserve the alleged peace that you feel. It's always people like you who find peace and the rest of us are left dealing with the consequences that you should be feeling. This is the last time I ever lay eyes on you willingly. I plan on having about a million kids and not only will I treat them better on my worst day than you ever treated us on your best but I will never give you a chance to look at them. You won't even know their names if I can help it. And your kid? God help it. I hope you don't end up killing it because you 'love' it too much. And just so you know, if I even hear this kid has a mark on her, I 'm calling children's services, which is what someone should have done to you, you pig."

Russell's hand raises like he's going to smack her. Zoey flinches, but she stares at him defiantly. Dan steps between them, blocking Russell from seeing Zoey.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dan warns. "You'll be dead before you even hit the floor."

Russell looks away and gazes at Quinn. "Quinnie? Sweetpea?" Russell entreats.

There is visible rage in Dan's eye. "Don't you talk to her--"

Quinn has been silent all this time. She has a firm grip on Rachel's hand. It's sweaty and clammy, but Rachel doesn't mind.

"Dan, it's okay," Quinn says quietly.

Dan relents.

"I'd like to have a relationship with you," Quinn says finally, quietly to Russell..

Rachel is surprised, Zoey looks murderous and Dan puts a hand meant to be calming on Zoey's shoulder, but she knocks it away.

"Quinn, what the fuck?"

Russell grins, and on him, it looks triumphant and cocky.

"But not right now," Quinn adds.

Russell's smile dims. "Quinnie--"

"I had to go into therapy because you came back. And I'm not ready to have you back in my life. But someday. I missed having a father and I'd like to have one again. But right now, I can't. Please don't contact me, daddy. I'll contact you."

With that, Quinn stands up and practically flees the table. Dan and Zoey follow after her. Rachel gets up from the table and grabs her coat and purse and Quinn's coat and purse, both of which she'd left behind in her mad dash to leave.

Rachel feels the absurd urge to give Russell and his partner some social nicety like "it was so nice to meet you" out of reflexive politeness, but she doesn’t because it wasn't.

\--

The moment they get into the car, Zoey explodes. This time, Zoey and Dan sit in the front and Rachel and Quinn sit in the backseat.

"What the fuck do you mean you want a relationship with him?" Zoey bellows. "Are you insane?!"

"Zo, don't yell at her," Dan says quietly.

Zoey takes in a deep calming breath "You would be making a mistake."

Quinn shrugs. "It's my life, not yours."

"Quinn!"

Quinn just sits, hunched in the backseat, face expressionless and jaw clenched. But she has her hand in Rachel's and it's cold, sweaty and trembling.

\--

The rest of the car ride is quiet and Quinn's mother is already home when Rachel and Quinn get back. Zoey and Dan drive away.

Judy looks at Rachel and Quinn wryly. "Your father texted me," she tells Quinn. "At least you tried."

Quinn looks at her warily. "Sorry, mom."

"I'm not going to interfere anymore," Judy says with a sigh. "But to be fair to him, Quinnie, he does seem very different to me."

"Mmm," Quinn says as she and Rachel walk to her room.

Once they're safely inside, Quinn shuts the door and locks it. "He's really not that different," she says flatly. "But he is, a little."

Rachel swallows with difficulty. "He broke your arm?" she asks thickly.

Quinn flushes with shame. "It was a long time ago," she mumbles.

"God," Rachel whispers and she just has this desperate need to be close to Quinn right now, so she pulls Quinn into her arms.

Rachel thanks God that Russell left when he did before he could do more damage and she thanks God that Quinn was able to make it through so that they could meet.

Quinn struggles for just a moment, pushing against Rachel's shoulders before she finally just gives into the hug and cries, her face pressed into Rachel's neck.

They pull apart after a few minutes.

"Sorry," Quinn says quietly, wiping at her eyes.

"It's okay to cry," Rachel whispers tenderly, parroting the words Quinn said to her when her grandmother died

"I know," Quinn mumbles, but she still looks so embarrassed.

Rachel is highly verbal, but sometimes she has difficulty articulating or expressing her emotions, at least not in a way that isn't masqueraded by absurd rambling. She is awed by Quinn and she wishes she had some way of telling Quinn that she is dazzled by what she sees in a way that won't make her sound like a total doofus.

"You're amazing," Rachel says sincerely and she means it completely, but her heart feels so heavy.

Quinn laughs softly. "Thanks."

Rachel swallows hard and rubs both of Quinn's arms. "Which arm was it?" she asks quietly.

Quinn swallows visibly. "The right," she whispers.

Rachel wants to cry because while Quinn's dominant hand is her right, she's also ambidextrous, which Rachel has always enjoyed. She wonders if Quinn became so adept with her left hand because Russell broke her right arm. The thought of enjoying a result of Russell's abuse like it's a perk makes Rachel nauseous.

It takes a moment for Rachel to reign in the emotions she feels enough to speak. "Why didn't you tell me what he did?" she murmurs.

Quinn tenses at the question and she becomes very still before she relaxes. "I was embarrassed," Quinn said, her voice quivering. "He was leaving and I didn't want him to go. It was late-- and I-I think I knew he wasn't coming back. He was awful a lot, but sometimes he was a really good dad." Quinn swallows with difficulty. "I didn't want him to leave," she says, her voice cracking. "I guess I was just...embarrassed that I wanted him to stay and he wanted to go so bad, he'd break my arm to do it." The last few words-- 'he'd break my arm to do it,' come out strangled and Rachel has to envelope her girlfriend into a tight hug because Quinn just sounds too sad.

"He should be ashamed," Rachel whispers. "You get that, right?"

Quinn chuckles lowly. "Rachel," she says, as if Rachel's told a semi-funny joke. She starts to pull away.

Rachel holds on. "He should be ashamed," she says lowly, firmly. "He doesn't deserve you. You love your dad-- that just makes you normal. He was the aberrant one-- and maybe he's different now that he's being true to himself. I really hope he is. But you were never the one who should have been ashamed. You've always been normal and perfect. He was the sick one, not you."

Quinn nods silently, blond hair scratching at Rachel's neck as she does so, but Rachel gets the impression that Quinn doesn't entirely believe it. It's something Rachel fully intends to work on.

\--

They talk quietly in bed that night as they try to go to sleep and Quinn softly admits that while her father's actions during her childhood still pain her, knowing how unhappy he was makes her feel a little better because she wants to believe his actions were driven by his own self-hatred and unhappiness than anything about her.

\--

The next day, Rachel shyly asks Quinn to show some of her baby pictures, and Quinn sighs heavily, and regards her for a long moment before she retrieves a battered brown album.

"I really did burn most of the pictures of me before I was fourteen," Quinn says, handing Rachel the album. "Because I have to warn you, I was really awkward."

"Quinn." Rachel murmurs gently.

"I mean, I was…" Quinn swallows hard, her voice shaky. "I was really ugly, Rachel," she says quietly.

The way Quinn says it breaks Rachel's heart, because no one should ever even think that about him or herself, let alone say it.

"Can I see your yearbook?" Rachel asks, hoping maybe to work up to the childhood photos by starting with pictures that Quinn would be more comfortable with.

Quinn nods eagerly. "Sure."

Still with the album in her hands, Quinn walks to a shelf and pulls down her senior yearbook and hands it to Rachel.

Rachel flips through it-- unlike her own very sparsely autographed yearbook, Quinn's is covered with well-wishes. There is no available white space, although Rachel does have to laugh when the very first white autograph space has Santana's messy scrawl at the top. 'This space is reserved for Santana Lopez and now no one will ever be able to have this white space again' Underneath it, Santana had written, 'see you in LA, bitch' and nothing else.

"I know, right?" Quinn says with an eye roll. "Fucking Santana."

"She's pretty charming," Rachel says.

Rachel browses the yearbook.

In addition to being the class valedictorian, Quinn was also the Student Body President that year. She was the Homecoming Queen and Prom Queen in addition to being voted 'Best Body' and 'Most Attractive' in the senior superlatives. She was the Cheerleading Captain, Celibacy Club Founder (Rachel howls with laughter when she sees that, earning her a pillow to the back of the head) and part of the Academic Decathlon. It's an impressive resume and Rachel eyes her girlfriend with pride.

'We would have such amazing, overachieving, aesthetically-pleasing kids,' Rachel thinks with a bit of smugness. She's fairly certain she can convince Quinn to be the source of the egg for all of their children..

Rachel finishes looking through the yearbook and then points toward the brown album in Quinn's hands. "May I?" she asks softly.

Quinn hesitates for a moment but reluctantly passes it toward Rachel. "Just so you know, I wasn't little and cute and all pretty like you were. You looked like an Anorexic Baby. I was a Sumo Wrestler Baby."

Rachel laughs softly. "Baby," she chides.

Rachel gently pulls the album away and opens it. The first few pictures she sees in the album are of Judy and Russell in what must have been the early days of their courtship. They both look stunning. She flips it further until she finds pictures of a stunning towheaded infant who could have been a Gerber baby model.

"That's Zoey," Quinn informs.

There are a few more pictures of Zoey through various stages of childhood, but Rachel passes those in favor of pictures of Quinn.

She casts her eyes on the first baby picture of Quinn.

"Oh," she breathes, because Quinn was a newborn in the picture and she was so small and pink-- nothing like a sumo wrestler. She's perfect and Rachel wishes that pictures were capable of capturing smells because Rachel just wants to grab that baby out of the picture and sniff her neck. It sounds stupid but babies just smell so wonderful and baby Quinn is so beautiful. Quinn's eyes are closed in the picture and Rachel finds herself gently tracing over Quinn's face in the picture. She imagines she and Quinn having a baby who looks just like that and her heart aches because she wants that so badly.

"You're so perfect," Rachel coos and she can't take her eyes off the picture because Quinn isn't a cute baby, she's pretty.

Quinn flushes. "All babies are cute."

"You've seen the pictures-- I looked like a hairy monkey," Rachel informs.

"You did not," Quinn refutes hotly.

Rachel snorts. "I did, but that's okay. I don't look as much as a Monchichi anymore." She looks at the picture below it-- Quinn's a few months older and this time, her eyes are open. God, those eyes. Rachel knows those eyes will always have power over her.

Rachel smiles tenderly down at the picture and she stares at it for a good while before she turns the page.

Rachel continues on. And yes, Quinn did have a bit of an awkward phase, but it was nowhere near the level Quinn hyped it to be. She had some baby fat as a young child and her face had not yet reached its adult shape yet, but other than that, there was nothing about the child version of Quinn that Rachel would have deemed as 'ugly.'

Clearly uncomfortable with the time Rachel spends on each picture, Quinn pulls the album away.

"I think that's enough," she mutters.

Rachel cups Quinn's face. "I don't know what you were talking about. You were adorable."

Quinn snorts derisively. "Rachel." She sounds exasperated

"If we had a bunch of kids who all looked like you, I would be really happy," Rachel says sincerely. "You just looked like a normal kid who grew up to be a genetically blessed adult."

Quinn snorts. "You're such a nerd," she says fondly.

"And yet you want to keep me around, so who is the bigger nerd?" Rachel teases.

"Your sister is a sci-fi geek," Quinn retorts. "It runs in your family."

Rachel nods. "Then you should carry the children we have together," she says pleasantly. "So as to not pass on my nerdy genetic material, which brings us back to my first point--I would be over-the-moon if we had children and they all looked like you. A little army of your doppelgangers. As a Jew, I'm a little uncomfortable at the idea of having such an Aryan-looking family, but as a shallow snob, I'm glad I'll have a hot wife and gorgeous kids."

She says it in a teasing, joking way, but she actually means it.

Quinn pushes past all the Jew-Aryan jokes and the self-deprecating humor of shallow snobbery and latches immediately onto the most important part.

Quinn swallows visibly. "You want to have kids with me?"

Rachel panics a little because she doesn't want to push them to be more serious than Quinn wants.

Sure, they're dating exclusively, but it's a pretty big leap to talk about kids.

Except Quinn already knows that Rachel is committed to making their relationship work and Rachel wants to be honest about this. And anyway, it's not the first time they've talked about having kids together, it's just that the last time they did, they were newly dating-- a time in which, ironically enough, talking about having kids together is more abstract pillow talk than serious suggestions.

"I do," Rachel says quietly. "But I know it's still pretty far away. Like really far away. But I've always wanted to start a family before I was thirty and now I met someone with whom I can fulfill my life plan."

"That person is me, right?" Quinn deadpans.

Rachel rolls her eyes and swats at Quinn's stomach.

Grinning, Quinn steps away.

"You think you're pretty clever, don't you?" Rachel asks.

"I do," Quinn nods with a grin. But she sobers. "Do you think I'd be a good mom?" she asks quietly.

"I think you'd be a great mom," Rachel says sincerely. "Having kids with you, it's already part of my life plan."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Quinn beams in response.

Seeing the sunny smile on Quinn's face, Rachel is glad she copped to her tendency to get ahead of herself in relationships. It's creeped people out in the past, but Quinn just seems to accept it and so Rachel returns Quinn's beaming grin with one of her own.

\--

Traveling is exhausting, so the first thing they do when they get back to LA is take a nap at Quinn's apartment.

When Rachel wakes up, it's because Quinn is eating a plate of grapes and is using Rachel's stomach as a makeshift table.

Rachel cocks open one eye. "Hey you."

Quinn grins. "Hey you."

"Toss one in here," Rachel says, opening her mouth wide.

Quinn grins and plucks a grape off the plate, but rather than chucking it, she drops it, gently, into Rachel's mouth.

"I didn't want you to choke," Quinn explains with a shy smile, tapping her fingers on Rachel's stomach, right next to the plate.

Rachel laughs, and she chews a mouthful of grape. She swallows before she responds. "Why are you using my stomach as a table?"

"It's a flat surface," Quinn jokes.

Rachel smiles contentedly as she gazes up at the blonde. "You're cute," she murmurs.

Quinn's cheeks tinge with pink. "Hey," she says softly.

Rachel's grin broadens. "Hey, what?" she asks lightly.

Quinn laughs and smiles crookedly. "Hey," she says quietly after a moment, her eyes serious.

"Hey," Rachel whispers.

"I-I know that these past few months, I've been…" Quinn trails off and her jaw clenches tightly. "I've been really awful to you--"

"No, you haven't," Rachel refutes.

"I have sometimes," Quinn cuts in softly. "Especially after we found out about my dad. I know I was awful to you sometimes. I know you don't want to talk about it, and I respect that, but what I did that night when we found out about my dad…and the day after…" Quinn's voice breaks. "I never wanted to hurt you," she whispers.

"You didn't," Rachel assures quietly. "It was a hard time for you, and you didn't know how to handle it. It was a lot to deal with. I would never judge you for that. You reacted badly a few times, but I haven't been perfect either. And I can assure you that despite my outward perfection in all that I do--" she grins when she sees Quinn good-naturedly roll her eyes. "You will not always like the way I react to things either."

"Yeah," Quinn says, "but that's why you still have your free pass that you can use."

Rachel grins. "Baby, if you'd ever done anything really awful, we wouldn't be together now. I promise you that. But I know you and I don't think you're capable of anything truly bad or unforgiveable. People aren't perfect, and we'll both make mistakes. I know we're going to have hard times, because every couple does. But we'll figure it out, right?"

Quinn swallows audibly and a muscle in her cheek twitches. "Right," she whispers. She takes a deep breath. "I would never hurt you, okay?" she asks softly. "I'm not like my dad. I'd never hurt you or the kids we're going to have together. I'll be good to you and I'll be good to them," she says plaintively, in a way that seems like she's begging Rachel to believe her.

Rachel takes the plate of grapes off her stomach and sits up. She sets the grapes away. "I know," she says quietly. "I know that."

"My dad hits." Quinn pauses. "Hit," she corrects softly. "And he cheated. He was a bully, but I'm not. I swear I'm not. I'd never do anything like that to you or our future family. I know you said you wouldn't judge me by my family, but I know it's hard not to do. I want you to know, I'm different. I know you're probably wondering if it's worth getting involved in my screwed up family, but I promise, I won't let it touch you. You'll never feel it, I swear," Quinn insists tearfully.

Rachel looks at Quinn sympathetically and she hates Russell Fabray so much for all the damage he inflicted. Because really, her family is no picnic either, and she worries about her family chasing Quinn away and has a litany of concerns about her family meshing with Quinn. But her fears aren't as extreme as Quinn's.

"I know, Quinn," Rachel tells her simply. "I trust you." She smiles lopsidedly. "Do you think I would build my life around anything less than the very best?"

Quinn chuckles. "I guess not," she admits with an eye roll. "I mean, you are just so high-maintenance," she jokes.

"Yes," Rachel deadpans. "And as the venerable and quotable Finn Hudson would say, I am quite the controllist."

Quinn snorts. "We should really stop making fun of him. I mean, I haven't even seen him since I moved out the dorm."

"But it's so fun," Rachel whines.

Quinn laughs. "He really is an idiot," she agrees. "He's lucky he's cute."

Rachel chortles. "He really is."

\--

After Quinn's dinner with her father, she increases her appointments with her therapist from one time a week to two. It doesn't bother Rachel per se, but she does wonder if her girlfriend is more affected by it than she's let on to her.

Quinn keeps saying she's fine, and they talk about it-- a lot, actually. Rachel doesn't think Quinn is hiding anything, she's just worried. She has to admit she's relieved when Quinn's two-a-week appointments taper down to the one-a-week norm after just three weeks.

For a while, all that therapy seems to do more harm than good because Quinn cries a lot during that three week period. Rachel knows it's normal for that to happen with therapy-- things getting a little worse before they get better, but she worries anyway.

After a while, Quinn really does seem to feel better.


	10. Chapter 10

When it's just the two of them, Rachel will often give into Quinn and cook naked or semi-nude, despite the fact that naked cooking is rarely as fun for the cook as it is for the observer.

Things like oil and sauce tend to splatter even when she tries to be extra careful, so on this particular night, Rachel nixes anything elaborate and settles for making sandwiches, despite the fact that she is wearing underwear. Though she isn't wearing anything else. She has the _Wicked_ soundtrack on while she blends a basil mint lemonade and she bellows along with the "wickedness must be punished!" part of 'March of the Witch Hunters.' She throws her arm, holding a spoon, into the air for extra flourish.

She hears a snort of laughter and she turns to see Quinn standing near the entrance of the kitchen, arms folded and staring at her in amusement.

Rachel points the spoon at Quinn. "Wickedness must be punished!" she bellows again.

Quinn laughs. "Kill the witch!" she exclaims, playing along.

Rachel beams at her girlfriend who is clad only in a pair of red boyshort underwear which improbably has a cupcake silkscreened on the rear. "We have to see _Wicked_ when it comes back to LA. I can't believe you've never seen it!"

Quinn smiles and moves closer to Rachel to watch the brunette assemble the sandwiches. "Maybe the next time it's in LA, you'll be playing Elphaba."

Rachel's grin broadens and she reaches out to pull Quinn even closer. "Do you want cheese on yours? It's real provolone, not cheese substitute. I bought it for you," she adds. She smiles when Quinn nods eagerly. Who knew she'd fall in love with a woman whose two favorite foods are bacon and cheese. "And regarding Elphaba, all I have to say is from your lips to God's ears, baby. You are already so divine. I was _born_ to play that role."

Quinn snorts. "According to you, you were born to play all good roles. And how many times have I told you that you don't need to be so charming? I'm already sleeping with you."

"I know, but I'm hoping if I'm charming enough, you'll let me use the backdoor one day," Rachel deadpans, slapping Quinn's butt.

Quinn jumps at the smack, but she eyes Rachel with a shocked expression. "Did you mean what I think you mean?"

"Anal sex?" Rachel asks innocently. "Yes, I did." She hides a smile at the expression on Quinn's face which is a mixture of shock, fear and disgust.

"Oh. I-I…uh--"

Rachel bursts into laughter and she raspberries her girlfriend's cheek. "I'm kidding, baby," she says with a smile. "While I am not opposed to anal sex, I've already engaged in it with others before you, and I've therefore already checked it off my list. I'm perfectly happy with keeping that particular orifice one-way only."

Quinn looks relieved, but oddly enough, even more grossed out. "I think you've been spending too much time around Santana. Orifice is such a gross word. Don't say that kind of stuff when you're handling food."

"Oh, baby," Rachel says. "You're such a prude."

"You've definitely been spending too much time around Santana."

Rachel pouts. "It's not like I asked you to urinate on me or for us to reenact that two girls, one cup video."

Quinn's face morphs in horror and she clutches her hands over her ears. "Ewwwww!"

"But those are things I'm _not_ asking you to do!" Rachel protests.

"It's still gross! God, I can't even think about it." Quinn rubs her bare belly. "I feel nauseous. Do you feel nauseous?"

"No," Rachel says bluntly. She hands Quinn a sandwich on a plate. "Maybe you'll feel better if you eat something."

Quinn looks at it. "I don't think so," she says slowly. "I lost my appetite."

Rachel pouts and takes back the sandwich and sets the plate on the counter. "Oh," she says. She pauses. "Would you like to have sex again?"

Quinn considers it. Though the mention of two girls, one cup and reference to watersports really did make her lose her appetite, the conversation did veer into the category of 'sex adjacent' and she is, therefore, a little horny.

"Okay," Quinn agrees amiably.

Rachel grins and they run, giggling, into the bedroom.

\--

Rachel can concede that her relationship with Quinn is _very_ physical, but she doesn’t see anything wrong with that. They're young, they're in love and their relationship is still fairly new, so of _course_ they're going to have sex a lot. Rachel genuinely wouldn't change a thing. There's nothing mechanical or prosaic about their sex life-- she knows sex is supposed to feel good, but Rachel would characterize their sex life as downright joyous.

They spend a few hours having sex until neither of them can take it anymore and they lie in bed, wrapped around each other, chuckling.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you rather have a home abortion or a back alley abortion?"

There is a moment of stunned silence before Quinn responds. " _What?!_ "

"I think that question answers more about a person's character than the usual 'dog or cat,' 'Coke or Pepsi' or 'beach or mountains' type questions. And I'm curious to see what you would choose between two untenable options."

"I can't have a regular abortion?"

"No, home abortion and back alley abortions are your only two options."

Quinn sighs deeply, but seems to contemplate it if the way she bites down on her lower lip for a long time is any indication.

"Home abortion," Quinn says finally. "At least I can be in my own bed and my own house would be more sanitary than a back alley."

"Interesting," Rachel says. "I believe I would go with back alley abortion."

Quinn snorts in derision. "You would not. You have OCD. You told me you cried and hyperventilated when you watched _Contagion_."

"That's because _Contagion_ could really happen!" Rachel shouts in outrage. "That movie came out when I was a senior in high school and was the primary driving force behind my decision not to live in the dorms! Dormitories are Petrie dishes of disease!"

"Yeah, and _you're_ saying you'd choose the back alley abortion?"

"I have several reasons," Rachel says. "First, I would not have to clean anything up unlike in a home abortion situation. I'm not sure all the bleach in the world would ever make me feel my home would be clean again in that scenario. Secondly, the back alley abortion practitioner likely has a great deal of experience in performing the abortion, whereas I've never had the experience of performing an abortion on myself. Thirdly, to piggyback on my second point, because of my lack of experience, I would inevitably end up screwing things up. Many women have lived through a back alley abortion, and though the stories are horrific, my only exposure to a woman who gives herself a home abortion is Kate Winslet's character in _Revolutionary Road_ and Quinn, I simply refuse to go out like that."

Quinn blinks. "You've really given this a lot of thought."

Rachel grins. "No, it's just what came to me. I was speaking extemporaneously."

"I have one," Quinn says suddenly.

Rachel beams. "Shoot, baby."

"Would you rather be homeless for the rest of your life or a prostitute?"

Rachel winces. "It pains me to say this, but I choose prostitute."

Quinn grins. "Me too."

"But only because maybe I can--"

"Work my way up to Madam," they say together

They stare at one another, wide-eyed, before Rachel lets out a pleased squeal and pulls Quinn into her arms, smothering Quinn's face with kisses.

"We would both be prostitutes endeavoring to be madams! We're made for one another!" Rachel squeals happily, like being prostitutes endeavoring to be madams is the best career path in the entire world. "Baby, see? Despite our differences regarding abortion location options, we're still aligned when it comes to work ethic, even in the sex trade! We're soulmates!"

Quinn looks at Rachel curiously. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

"No," Rachel admits after a moment of silence. "Actually, I do not. But I do believe that two _whole_ people can come together and each feel even more complete-- if that makes sense."

Quinn smiles. "It does. And I don't believe in soulmates either." She reaches for Rachel's hands and their fingers interlock. "But I think two people can be perfect for one another."

Rachel chuckles. "Let's think of some more untenable options."

"Okay," Quinn agrees.

"But let's set some ground rules. No choices that revolve around eating something gross."

Quinn nods. "Agreed. And nothing where one of the choices involves something really bad happening to one or both us. Or someone we love."

"Definitely agree."

"Okay," Quinn says. She thinks about it, but it's pretty difficult to top 'home abortion versus back alley abortion.' She bites her lip. "Um…"

Rachel also appears to be having difficulty thinking of options. "Um…"

They fall asleep.

\--

Rachel wakes up at five the next morning, just as she always does for her run. But with her girlfriend's nude body wrapped around her, she just can't get out of bed. She goes back to sleep and when she wakes up a couple hours later, it's because Quinn is walking the index and middle fingers of her right hand across Rachel's collar bone.

"Hi," Rachel whispers.

"Hi," Quinn murmurs. "You didn't go for your run today." She sighs contentedly. "It was nice waking up and having you still here. You're usually still at the gym by now."

Rachel smiles. "I woke up, but I didn't want to leave."

Inwardly, Rachel sings, _'yesterday, I woke up, with your head on my arm, my hand was numb, circulation gone, but I dared not move the pretty sleeping one.'_ She wonders why so many songs seem to fit when it comes to Quinn, but not a single one she's heard has ever really encapsulates _all_ she feels for Quinn.

The more time that passes, the more emotions she feels and the harder it becomes for any song to truly reflect their situation.

Quinn strokes her hair. "I know it's Monday, but can't we just spend the day like this?" she asks quietly, snuggling into Rachel. "We can pretend it's still Sunday."

There are classes and work study jobs to consider in addition to a myriad of other responsibilities, but the way Quinn asks-- her voice so soft, her eyes pleading, her expression achingly shy…Rachel cannot refuse.

She swallows back the lump of emotion that rose in the back of her throat and gives a slight nod.

\--

They fall back asleep and wake up again around noon.

They order in Chinese food and they eat in bed.

"Baby," Quinn says. "What are you doing for your birthday?"

Rachel's birthday is in two weeks, but she's more concerned about her voice and piano recitals at the end of the quarter and her part in the Drama Department's play. Besides, she's never really celebrated her birthday. Audrey's birthday is the month before, but just a few weeks after Audrey's birthday is Thanksgiving, which her family doesn't celebrate, but it's still stressful anyway. After that are the December holidays of Hanukah, Christmas and New Years Eve-- two of her parents are Jewish and daddy is Catholic, so she grew up celebrating both.

Her birthday always just gets lost in the Audrey's birthday/holiday shuffle.

There have even been a couple years where her parents are fighting so much over the arrangements for the holidays (somehow, someone always had a reason to protest that family law order) that her parents have even _forgotten_ her birthday entirely-- (her sixth, tenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth).

And anyway, she never really had many friends to celebrate it with, either, so she's never thrown a big party.

Rachel shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I don't really celebrate my birthday. It's not a big deal to me."

Quinn looks at her dubiously. "Are you sure? Because honestly, baby, you seem like the kind of person who celebrates her birthday _month_."

Rachel chuckles. "True," she has to concede. "Maybe I would if my birthday weren't in December. But my birthday always got lost because of all the holidays."

"You didn't even celebrate it with your parents and sister?"

Rachel looks at her wryly, but says nothing.

Quinn winces. "Right," she says slowly. "Probably not."

"I usually did something with my dads and my sister and then again with my mom and sister. And then later, Mike and Jesse, too. Oh, and Mercedes and Tina. But I really didn't want to call too much attention to my birthday because I didn't want to give my parents another reason to fight. I mean, it was a lot better that way-- sometimes, they got so busy arguing about the custody arrangement for the holidays that they even forgot about my birthday."

"That's so sad," Quinn says softly.

"Not really," Rachel says quietly. "It was better than them fighting. On my fifth birthday, daddy got mad at my mom and threw my birthday cake. He was still holding it in the box. He did it in front of a few kids from my first grade class and their parents and most of them didn't come back to my house anymore." Rachel chuckles. "I guess their parents didn't want them to be around mine."

"That really sucks, Rachel," Quinn says sympathetically.

Rachel shrugs, waving her hand dismissively. "It used to make me sadder, but it all makes more sense now that I know what happened between my mom and my dad. I understand now why things were so volatile, and now that I know and now that it makes sense, I _get_ it."

Quinn nods. "Yeah," she says softly. She swallows visibly. "Are…are you okay with that? You don't really talk about it."

"I don't really want to," Rachel admits. "I know a lot of it was in the past, but when I think about what happened the last time I was home…" she trails off and clenches her jaw. She gets furious and resentful when she thinks about her mother and dad swearing her to secrecy when she caught them kissing. It's _not_ a fair demand to make of her.

She feels so sorry for daddy and a lot of his rage growing up makes so much sense to her now. She used to think he was unreasonable, but now it seems like he was entitled.

"What?" Quinn prompts gently.

"It makes me hate them," Rachel admits. "So I'd rather just forget about my birthday this year because I don't want to think about my parents. And really, on your birthday, how can you not think about your parents. Especially me. I mean, I was meticulously _planned_."

"I guess," Quinn murmurs. She has a look on her face that Rachel can't readily discern, but she knows the topic of parents is a sensitive one for Quinn, so she tries to change the subject.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

"I don't like the idea of not at least celebrating your birthday," Quinn says, clearly unable to let the subject go. "I mean, it's your _birthday_ , we're celebrating that you're in the world."

Rachel chuckles. "And now it's a beautiful world?" she jokes.

Quinn swallows. "Well," she says quietly. "Yeah."

Rachel is speechless. She's not sure what to say because Quinn looks so serious and Rachel's first instinct is to make a self-deprecating joke like some kind of clown.

She decides to show a little decorum and say nothing.

"Can I plan a party for you?" Quinn asks quietly.

Rachel smiles at her. "You want to plan a birthday party? For me?"

"No," Quinn says. "For Charlie Brown. _Of course_ for you. Can I plan a party for you or do you really want to forget it?"

Quinn's tone is initially happy when she says 'plan a party for you' but the moment she says 'or do you really want to forget it,' her voice takes on a decidedly dejected tone.

"You really want to?" Rachel asks again. She just wants to make sure Quinn doesn't feel obliged or something, because unlike every single _other_ detail of her life, both large and small, Rachel truly doesn't care about her birthday.

Quinn gives a tiny, eager nod.

Rachel beams at her. "I'd really love that."

Quinn's grin is toothy. "Great, baby!"

\--

Quinn takes complete control over planning Rachel's 20th birthday party. Rachel sometimes asks for details, but Quinn always responds, 'it's going to be a surprise!"

Rachel wants to point out the fact that she chose the day, time and location of the party basically means that the party is _not_ a surprise, but she really enjoys the way Quinn engages in all these hushed, furtive conversations or the way she hides what she's Googling.

It's _cute_.

More than once, because Quinn is so cute, Rachel hums _Secret Agent Man_. But since she's never actually seen the show for which _Secret Agent Man_ is the theme and she's not even sure if she's heard the song in its entirety, she really only knows the part that goes 'Secret Agent Man!" and she just hums those bars over-and-over again.

Which drives Quinn crazy.

"Stop it!" Quinn shouts while they study for finals for the Fall quarter together at Rachel's apartment when Rachel starts humming 'Secret Agent Man'

In the beginning, Rachel only did it to annoy her girlfriend, but now it's become an actual habit.

It's horrifying.

"You know," Rachel says. "When I first heard that song, I thought Johnny Rivers was saying 'Secret Asian Man' and I kept wondering "how could that be? Was he mixed?'"

Quinn gives her a look and shakes her head. She smiles fondly.

She doesn't complain the next time Rachel starts humming that song.

\--

Rachel chose the night of her party to fall after the completion of finals. Although she was the first of her friends to finish finals during all three quarters of her freshman and sophomore years, this year, she's the last one of her friends to finish finals of the Fall quarter.

She has her voice and piano recital and she's _extremely_ pleased with the results.

In addition, the last night of her play coincides with her recitals which take place in the afternoon.

The play gets a standing ovation on closing night and she's still riding _so_ high into the next day, which is the day of her party.

\--

She decides to have the party at her apartment because she and many of her friends are still not old enough to purchase alcohol legally, and everyone has already told her that she needs to get completely off her face to celebrate her birthday. She's not a regular drinker, but she does want to become inebriated at her birthday party.

She did not anticipate how many people were still in Westwood after finals, because the turn-out is much larger than she thought it would be-- practically everyone she thought to invite, shows up.

"It's like fucking Babylon up in this bitch!" Santana whoops.

Rachel laughs, but she's also a little afraid because the description is apt. She catches sight of Hope and Tim walking into her apartment and she smiles and waves, happy to see that her two friends seem to have hit it off, if the possessive poses are any indicators.

\--

For the rest of the party, Rachel takes drink after drink handed to her and by the end of the evening, she is _smashed_.

Nearly everyone is gone except for Quinn, Audrey, Brittany and Santana.

Audrey had always intended to spend the night, and she is now sprawled on a love seat, dead to the world. Brittany and Santana are both too drunk to drive or walk home, so it's decided they will crash on Rachel's couch for the night.

"No sex on my couch," Rachel slurs, pointing at them so emphatically with her entire arm that she stumbles into Quinn's steadying arms. "I sleep a lot on my couch and I will not have it defiled. Defiled!" she howls, tilting her head back in a pose better suited to calling to the heavens. "If you want to have sex, please have the courtesy of doing so in my bathroom! At least then I can clean it up. And my baby sister is in the same room! You cannot defile her!

Rachel is still rambling about propriety and cleanliness as Quinn drags Rachel away to the bedroom.

" _I'm never going to let you go! I'm going to hold you in my arms forever! I'm going to try to make up for all the times I hurt you so!_ Rachel bellow-sings. She pauses and stands still, tugging on Quinn's arm. "Baby! That song! What's it called?"

Quinn snorts. "I don't know. But I've heard it."

"Who sings it?!"

"I don't know," Quinn says, trying not to laugh.

"It is very stalkerish!" Rachel exclaims. "Can you imagine the unmitigated gall of this person? To treat someone callously and now they're refusing to unhand the person they mistreated! It's borderline domestic violence! It's emotional terrorism! I should write a strongly worded letter to the…president!"

"The president of the record company who released the song?" Quinn asks, biting her lip and trying desperately not to laugh, because if it weren't for the way Rachel is slurring, she would swear Rachel is sober and just on one of her cute rambling rants.

"Obama!" Rachel declares dramatically. "Only he could correct a grievous injustice such a song promoting emotional terrorism being so popular!"

A strangled laugh chokes out between Quinn's clenched lips. "Right," she agrees after a moment. She gently begins pushing her girlfriend toward the bed.

"Emotional terrorism!" Rachel decrees dramatically.

"Emotional terrorism," Quinn agrees solemnly.

Despite Rachel's treatise against Sergio Mendes's song, she gives its popularity validation by immediately launching into song again. " _I'm never going to let you go! I'm going to hold you in my arms forever! I'm going to try to make up for all the times I hurt you so_!"

"That's the only line you know, isn't it?" Quinn asks wryly as she helps Rachel into bed.

"Yep!" Rachel chirps.

Quinn chuckles and begins pulling off Rachel's boots.

"Do you know what song I like?" Rachel rambles

"What song?" Quinn asks as she pulls off Rachel's jeans.

Quinn's glad Rachel chose to wear pants rather than a dress or a skirt because Rachel was like an octopus tonight, with her limbs going off in various directions. Quinn is thrilled to have such a limber and flexible girlfriend-- thanks, yoga. And she's _really_ thankful for those gorgeous legs and tight butt-- thanks, Zumba, but Quinn does not like the idea of anyone but her seeing what Rachel has under her clothes. And if Rachel had worn a dress or a skirt, many people definitely would have seen what Rachel has below the belt.

"It's kind of embarrassing," Rachel warns.

Quinn bites back her laughter. "You can tell me anything," she says. "Baby, sit up so I can pull off your shirt and bra."

Quinn helps her girlfriend sit up, and she moves to help Rachel take off her top, but Rachel just pulls it over her head in one swift motion. She says something as she does so-- her words becoming muffled into the fabric.

"What was that?" Quinn asks frowning.

"The theme to _The O.C._ ," Rachel says as she takes off her bra. "The Phantom Planet song."

Quinn is momentarily too distracted by the sight of Rachel's bare breasts to concentrate on Rachel's response. But it hits her when Rachel starts to caterwaul "California! Here we come!"

Quinn laughs heartily and when her laugher subsides, she strokes Rachel's hair. "You are very cute," she murmurs.

Rachel grins a bright, drunk smile. " _You're_ cute," she leers. "I want you to sit on my face."

Quinn snorts as she reaches for a night shirt and pulls it over Rachel's head. "I think you're a little drunk for that."

Rachel smiles drunkenly. "Then you can do all the work! I'll open my mouth, stick out my tongue and you can sit on my face and just…wiggle."

Quinn laughs. "As tempting as that offer is, I'm going to have to take a raincheck."

Rachel pouts. "Can't I at least see your mammaries? It's my birthday! You should be sitting on my face! I really like it when you do that!" she exclaims brightly.

Quinn is still fixated on that first part. "Mammaries?"

"I thought saying boobs or tits was too crass and breasts too clinical," Rachel explains with a surly pout.

"And you thought _mammaries_ was _less_ clinical?" Quinn asks incredulously. "And you think telling me to sit on your face is _less_ crass?"

"Asking you to sit on my face was a frank and direct request that I wish you would have accommodated considering it's my birthday celebration. Further, saying mammaries has the potential to be cute," Rachel slurs defensively. Dear God, even when she's drunk she can ramble like a champ. "It could become like a thing, something akin to 'save the tatas!' or 'save the whales!' or…" Rachel contemplates it, but her drunkenness makes her distracted and she starts to doze off. She snaps to attention. "What was I saying?"

"Something about the word mammaries being cute."

"Oh, right!" Rachel says, clapping her hands together. "It could be a thing. 'Show me your mammaries!' Maybe Santana can start saying that at my shows instead of 'show me your tits' and then maybe it'll catch on!" Rachel says excitedly.

Quinn chuckles. "Baby, the only person who could make saying 'show me your mammaries' cute is you."

Rachel pouts. "That's not true! It could become a thing! Like…'surrender your alcohol!'"

Quinn affectionately rolls her eyes. "That's not a thing. You just made that up and kept telling people that tonight."

"Oh." Rachel chews on her lower lip for a moment. "Quinn?"

"Yes, baby."

"Show me your mammaries and surrender your alcohol!"

Quinn chuckles, and she obliges by shucking off her shirt and bra. Because it's Rachel's birthday, after all. But she won't give Rachel any more alcohol because she's _definitely_ had enough. Luckily, Rachel seems too distracted by the presence of bare breasts to really care about the absence of alcohol.

Which, really, is how it should be.

Rachel gives Quinn a drunk grin and then sticks out her index finger and pokes Quinn's left breast. "Mammaries!" Her grin is toothy. "You submitted to me! Because it's my birthday!" she bellows. "All hail the birthday girl! Mammaries!"

Quinn shakes her head and laughs. Rachel is _really_ lucky she's cute.

\--

Rachel is too drunk to wash up, so Quinn just turns off the light and they both lie down. Quinn hopes that Rachel doesn't get sick. During the festivities, she made sure her girlfriend also drank a lot of water and Gatorade along with all the alcohol and she also made Rachel take a few electrolyte tablets in hopes of preventing sickness or hangover.

"Did you have a good birthday, baby?" Quinn asks.

She hopes her girlfriend had fun-- because of all the people who showed up, Rachel made off like a bandit in terms of presents, but Quinn knows such things aren't what truly matters to Rachel.

Rachel snuggles into Quinn. "It was the best," she murmurs contentedly. "You're too good to me."

"You're the best thing that _ever_ happened to me," Quinn says sincerely.

A loud snore is her response.

Quinn sighs, and shakes her head, chuckling as she does so.

"You're lucky you're cute," Quinn murmurs.

\--

Rachel feels like hell when she wakes up the next morning, which is her actual birthday.

She groans and cuddles deeper into her bed.

Next to her, Quinn chuckles softly and nuzzles Rachel's cheek. "Happy birthday to you," she sings softly into Rachel's ear. "Happy birthday dear Rachel, happy birthday to you."

Rachel grins ruefully, because while she feels horrible, it's always a sweet, sweet sound to hear that voice in her ear.

"You smell like a monkey and you look like one, too," Quinn adds with a chuckle.

Rachel giggles. "What type of monkey? I've always felt the proboscis monkey would be smellier than other monkeys, but of course, I've never gathered empirical evidence-- it's mere speculation."

Quinn just stares for a moment. Rachel didn't even bother to open her eyes to say all that.

"Uh, sure, baby. I guess you can choose the monkey," Quinn says, "It is your birthday after all."

"I have no monkey preference. Just as long as it's a cute species of monkey. Like Mr. Monkey,: Rachel says, blindly groping behind her for her white stuffed monkey.

Quinn chuckles and grabs Mr. Monkey from his perch on the headboard of the bed and tucks it under Rachel's arm.

Rachel sighs with contentment and snuggles against the monkey, looking very much like she did when she was a child.

Quinn stares at Rachel, who still has her eyes closed and is burrowing her head into the pillow. She strokes Rachel's hair. "How do you feel, baby?" Quinn asks softly.

"Awful," Rachel admits with a rueful grin. "But I think I just need to sleep a bit more."

"I'll get you some water and some more electrolyte tablets, okay?"

Rachel nods. "Okay," she mumbles in agreement.

Quinn leaves the bed and Rachel can feel her absence immediately. She's dozing, but she doesn't fall asleep.

Once Quinn comes back, Rachel takes an electrolyte tablet and then drains the glass of water. She feels a little better, but she's still dizzy and hungover.

Quinn begins to gently rub Rachel's shoulders and back until Rachel falls asleep again.

\--

A few hours later, Rachel wakes up feeling refreshed and recovered. Santana and Brittany left an hour before, still bleary-eyed and beleaguered, but sober.

Rachel walks into the living room to find her girlfriend and her sister watching _Star Wars_.

"Ugh," Rachel says, unable to stop herself.

Audrey is a total sci-fi geek who wears Star Wars hoodies and Star Trek shirts non-ironically.

"Don't ugh me, stupid," Audrey says.

"Shut up, you're stupid," Rachel retorts, but she grins and she plops down on the sofa between two of her favorite living people. She ruffles Audrey's hair. "Are you okay?" she asks tenderly. "Were you hungover?"

Audrey nods. "A little, but I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?"

Rachel nods. "Yeah, thanks for coming up here."

Audrey smiles. "Now we're not the same age anymore."

"Thank God." Rachel slaps her hand down on Audrey's thigh. "Why didn't you wake me up? I would have made you something to eat."

"Quinn bought me McDonald's for breakfast, so it's okay. Are you hungry? Do you want to order a pizza for lunch?"

"Sure," Rachel says. She turns to Quinn. "You bought my sister breakfast?" she asks with a grin.

Quinn gives her a shy smile. "Well, yeah. She's your sister."

Rachel beams at her. "Thank you."

It's always been important to her that anyone she dates is respectful to her parents and kind to her sister. Her family is so important to her, but she's always been particularly picky about the way her sister is treated. She's only dated two other people seriously before Quinn, and both Mike and Jesse were _amazing_ to Audrey, but Rachel knows that Jesse would not have been so nice if Audrey had been as abrasive with him as Audrey is with Quinn.

The fact that Quinn is still kind to Audrey despite the rudeness Audrey shows her means _so_ much to Rachel.

It also speaks volumes about the kind of person Quinn is.

Rachel rests her head on Quinn's shoulder who begins to absently run her fingers through Rachel's hair. Rachel puts her feet on her sister's legs. Audrey protests half-heartedly, but doesn't try to kick Rachel away.

Rachel starts to doze again and hears Quinn and Audrey talk to one another about something _Star Wars_ related, but Rachel is completely uninterested. She's half-asleep when she hears Audrey ask "is she asleep again?"

Quinn chuckles. "Yeah, I think so."

Audrey laughs. "She was really wasted last night. I've never seen her that messed up. It was pretty awesome."

Quinn chortles. "Yeah."

Audrey is quiet for a moment. "It was a pretty awesome party. You did a good job," she says, her tone grudging.

"Thanks," Quinn says softly, her voice sincere. It's clear that it means a lot to hear that.

"I _really_ don't like you very much," Audrey says. "I still think if you could say something that messed up about my sister, then a part of you must have meant it and you're not someone I'd want to be around her." Audrey sighs and takes a deep breath. " **But** I've never seen my sister so happy. I've never even really seen her _happy_. I don't like you, but I guess I get why she likes you so much."

Quinn nods slightly. "One of these days, if you keep poking at me, I might hit you. It's been known to happen when I snap."

"Rachel would knock you out," Audrey says confidently.

"No, I wouldn't," Rachel mumbles sleepily into Quinn's skin. "I do not believe domestic violence is acceptable. But please do not assault my sister, Quinn."

Quinn and Audrey share a look.

Rachel drifts back into sleep with a loud snore.

"She's dainty," Audrey quips wryly.

Quinn laughs. "Yeah."

\--

Thirty minutes later, Rachel wakes up feeling fully refreshed. They order a pizza and she, Quinn and Audrey eat while watching _Sixteen Candles_ on DVD. Once the movie is over, Audrey stands up, yawns and stretches.

"I'm going to go," she says.

"Okay," Rachel murmurs softly.

Audrey goes into Rachel's bedroom to get changed. She comes out forty five minutes later after showering, putting on her make-up and getting dressed.

Rachel gets up from the couch to hug her sister before Audrey leaves.

"Thanks for coming, Aud."

"Happy birthday, bitch."

Rachel rolls her eyes and pats her sister on the back. "Drive safe, okay? No daredevil antics."

Audrey rolls her eyes. "Whatever."

Rachel fishes out two twenty dollar bills from her wallet and passes it to her sister. "Here."

Audrey beams shamelessly. "Thanks!"

Audrey gives Rachel a backslap before she lifts her duffel bag to her shoulder. "Bye Rachel. Bye Quinn!"

Quinn smiles. "Bye, Audrey. Drive safe."

Rachel walks her sister to her car. "Seriously, drive safe. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"I will. Don't worry."

Rachel returns to her apartment and reclaims her seat on the couch. She feels a little sad being without her sister.

"Thank you for always being so nice to her," Rachel says softly. "It means a lot to me. I know she's very rude to you."

Quinn smiles. "It's fine," she says quietly. "It's easy because she looks just like you. I don't think I could ever be mean back, you know? Plus, she's your _sister_. It's kind of like she's my little sister, too.

"I really love you for that," Rachel says quietly. "Most people would have become combative, but not you. She's really important to me even if she is wildly unpleasant and unlikable sometimes."

Quinn chuckles softly. "If someone is important to you, then they're important to me."

Rachel smiles. "Quinn Fabray, you are very sweet, do you know this?"

Quinn laughs. Once she stops, she nervously clears her throat. "Um…I think this is a good time to give you your present," she says.

Rachel brightens. "I love presents."

Quinn smiles wryly. "I know you do, baby. I'm going to get it." She puts her hand on Rachel's thigh and presses down as she lifts herself up.

Rachel swats Quinn on the butt as the blonde walks away. Quinn turns to give Rachel a wry look, but doesn't say anything.

Quinn disappears into Rachel's bedroom but comes back a minute later carrying a wrapped gift. She sits down on the couch and nervously fingers the triangle necklace around her neck that Rachel gave her as a gift for Christmas the year before. They'd barely started dating then, but the gift meant _so_ much to Quinn and she constantly felt the pressure of giving Rachel a good gift.

"I-I don't know if you'll like i-it," Quinn stammers. "You're really good at giving gifts, but I'm terrible at it."

"No, you aren't," Rachel refutes.

"I-I didn't know what to get you," Quinn says. "You never want anything."

"I want a lot of things, like sincere thunderous applause in perpetuity to demonstrate how much an audience rightfully appreciates my immense talent."

Quinn nods her head, slightly, just once. "Right," she says slowly. "Anyway. I didn't know what to get you because never want anything you can buy in a store and just...this is the best I could do," she says, thrusting the gift at Rachel. "And I…I know this was a little megalomaniacal…" she trails off.

"I know I'll love it," Rachel says sincerely. "Thank you, gorgeous."

Quinn smiles shyly. "You're welcome, beautiful."

Rachel carefully unwraps the paper and sees a gold photo album.

Rachel grins. "Gold is kind of my thing, you know."

"I know."

Rachel leans forward to kiss Quinn. "Thank you," she murmurs.

"Open it."

Rachel opens the album to its first page and is startled to see a copy of her birth certificate. She flips the second page and sees a copy of Quinn's.

Rachel squeals. "Quinn!"

Quinn blushes and shrugs in embarrassment. "Keep looking," she says, staring down at her lap.

Rachel turns the page and sees a picture of herself as a newborn placed side-by-side with a picture of Quinn as a newborn. Rachel's eyes light up, and she lifts her head to beam at Quinn.

"Baby," Rachel says softly.

Quinn bites her lip. "I asked my mom just to send me whatever pictures of me as a kid that we have left in our house since I….you know, burnt most of them." She swallows with difficulty. "I can't think of anyone else I trust more to keep these pictures of me than you."

"Baby," Rachel murmurs and she feels like such a weakling, because she's ready to _cry_. She sets the album aside for a moment and grabs Quinn into a tight hug. "I love it," she whispers. "I love _you_ and I promise I'll guard these pictures with my _life_."

Quinn wipes away the tears that sprang in her eyes. "You don't have to go that far," she teases. "You don't have to lay down your life for them."

"This will be the first thing I save in a fire!" Rachel declares dramatically, hugging the closed album close to her chest.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Please tell me in case of a fire, you'll just run for your life."

"I can't promise that," she says, opening the album to where she left off.

Rachel stares at that picture of Quinn as a newborn she saw when they were visiting Quinn's family. God, she loves that picture so much. She hopes it's not the original copy, because well, Quinn's mom deserves to have it. But Rachel is so glad she gets to have a copy. She wanted to ask for a copy while they were visiting, but Quinn is so self-conscious about that sort of thing, Rachel didn't want to ask. It means so much to her that Quinn is _giving_ it to her.

Rachel continues to turn the pages of the album. On each page is one picture of Quinn juxtaposed with one picture of Rachel at the same age. Rachel groans a little when she sees that much hated picture when she was five, standing in costume outside of Walmart with Tina and Mercedes. Quinn cackles.

When they get to college, the album is filled with pictures of the two of them together since they each excessively document their courtship on their iPhones. There's also several pages that are collages of photos from some of her shows, along with ticket stubs from her shows and a few positive reviews.

"How did you get all these pictures of me?" Rachel asks softly, marveling at all the effort it must have taken.

"Mostly your mom and your sister. Your dads helped, too. Your sister gave me your mom's number-- I hope you don't mind. She was also the one who gave me a copy of your birth certificate and gave me your fathers' phone numbers."

Rachel is weepy, but in a good way. She wipes at her eyes. "I can't believe all the effort you put into this."

"It's your birthday," Quinn says softly.

The last few pages of the album are empty.

Quinn takes Rachel's hand. "I thought we could save those," she says shyly. "For when we get married and then have kids."

Quinn gazes at Rachel with trepidation, like she's gauging Rachel's response.

Rachel beams at her, and _God_ , she's so relieved because this is unequivocal evidence that _yes_ , she and Quinn definitely have the same plans.

"My life plan indicates married by twenty-five and children by thirty," Rachel says. "Would you be amenable to this plan?"

Quinn grins. "It's funny, but that's what I always wanted."

Rachel sticks out her hand. "So it's a deal then."

Quinn shakes it. "Yes. It’s a deal."

Rachel grins.

Quinn chuckles. "But I still expect a ring. If you want this," she says, gesturing toward herself, "you've got to put a ring on it." She holds out her ring finger and wiggles it.

Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand and pulls it down to her lap. "I can't wait to marry you." She pinches Quinn's ring finger between her thumb and index finger. She brings Quinn's hand up to kiss Quinn's left finger. Their eyes meet and they stare at one another for a while.

Quinn swallows hard, trying to dislodge the lump that rose in her throat. "Happy birthday, baby," she murmurs, pulling Rachel in for a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

Rachel realizes it's selfish, but she's sad when Quinn goes home to Austin shortly after her birthday party for Winter Break.

Of _course_ Quinn would want to spend it with her family, but Rachel misses her.

Rachel chooses not to go home because she's booked too many shows. With the luxury of performing during Winter Break, she even books a show in New York City and gets to fly out on the venue's dime to perform. She stops in Ohio to spend a couple days with her family on her way back to LA, but for the most part, she spends Winter Break on her own. She calls her family on the first night of Hanukah and on Christmas, but the actual holidays are spent by herself.

She's spent it the same way for the past couple years, but this year it feels particularly lonely.

\--

It feels like a glimpse of the life she's making for herself-- this built-in loneliness. She's always been okay with loneliness, despite being extroverted by nature. The thought of people actually liking her is still kind of foreign and alien to her, so being alone doesn't necessarily translate to being lonely and even when it does, it never meant a bad thing.

But now she feels a little down being away from Quinn.

She doesn’t call Quinn much, choosing instead to communicate primarily by email and text messages. She knows Quinn is spending a lot of time with her mom and her sister, so Rachel wants to give her privacy.

In Quinn's emails and texts, she skirts around the topic of her father, but she's finally blunt enough to say she hasn't tried to contact him though he's emailed her.

Rachel is watching _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ on Christmas when her phone beeps to announce an email. It's from Quinn and her lips quirk into a smile. She opens it and realizes it's one of those survey emails which she's also sent to Santana and Brittany. But when she reads further on, she realizes that rather than filling out information about herself, Quinn has filled out information about the _moon_ , as in Earth's only known natural satellite.

"Silly," Rachel murmurs to herself, laughing quietly.

Date: December 25, 2014

From: Quinn Fabray

To: Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce

Subject: I'm just really bored

Santana, shut up. I'm just really bored.

Name: The Moon.

Age: 4.527 ± 0.010 billion years ago

Height: A surface area of 3.793 × 107 km2

Weight: 29.3-31.4km diameter, a lady never tells for sure

Current Location: orbiting Earth

Claim to Fame: allegedly causing madness in people when full; being a slut for Neil Armstrong

Hobbies: cultural impacts on literature; lunar madness; links to lycanthropy; craniofacial deformities, producing ocean tides; eclipses

Goals: being the eventual home to space cowboys, or if that doesn't work out, the graveyard of foolish astronauts

Enemies: Neil Armstrong (he poked my surface with his flag), the sun

Friends: crew of Apollo 13, the Earth, Charon

Are you taken: Yes

Are you a virgin: No, thanks to those scoundrels, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin.

One thing you would change about yourself: lunar craters

\--Quinn

Rachel laughs at the silliness of her girlfriend. She wonders what sort of mood Quinn is in right now. But she chooses to respond to the email.

Date: December 25, 2014

From: Rachel Berry

To: Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce

Subject: re: I'm just really bored

Love you, baby!

\--

Name: Pluto

Age: Like many members of the Kuiper belt, this information is classified

Height: A surface area of 1.665×107 km2

Weight: 2,306 (+/- 20) km

Current Location: in the Kuiper belt, also in planetary exile

Claim to Fame: demoted planet; being tiny but mighty

Goals: regain former station

Enemies: The International Astronomical Unit (responsible for being cast aside like refuse)

Friends: the sane scientists who are actively petitioning for my reinstitution

Are you taken: Yes

Are you a virgin: that depends on what the word 'a' means

One thing you would change about yourself: loss of planet status

\--Rachel!

Moments after Rachel sent it, she received an email from Santana.

Date: December 25, 2014

From: Santana Lopez

To: Quinn Fabray, Rachel Berry, Brittany Pierce

Subject: re: I'm just really bored

Are both you bitches high?

Fuck you both, don't send me this shit.

-S

Rachel suppresses a laugh, that is classic Santana.

Moments after that, an email from Brittany.

Date: December 25, 2014

From: Brittany Pierce

To: Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray, Rachel Berry

Subject: re: I'm just really bored

San, be nice.

-Brittany

Rachel bites her lip and laughs at the email chain. She really loves her girlfriend and their friends. She's getting ready to type a mass response, when she gets an email from Quinn, addressed solely to her.

Date: December 25, 2014

From: Quinn Fabray

To: Rachel Berry

Subject: re: I'm just really bored

Oh my God, I love you.

That email gives Rachel enough impetus to actually call her girlfriend.

"Hi," Rachel greets.

"Hi!" Quinn exclaims. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas to you, too," Rachel murmurs.

"I can't believe you did a survey as Pluto!" Quinn laughs

"Well, you started it," Rachel points out, with amusement in her voice.

"Well, I was _bored_ ," Quinn defends.

Rachel chuckles. "So, what are you doing right now?"

"I'm just in my room…reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and thinking of you."

Rachel grins, because _To Kill a Mockingbird_ is her favorite book and she collects various editions of it.

"How's it going?"

"It's… good," Quinn replies. "I got money from my mom, Zoey and Dan. My dad sent me a check, too, but I'm not sure I'm going to deposit it." She pauses. "I don't think I want to, even though I know it's a gift, I don't want to feel like I owe him."

"How much was it for?"

Quinn pauses for a moment before she answers. "Two grand," she admits.

"Wow," Rachel says, startled. "You could pay two months of rent with that."

"I know," Quinn says. "Even my mom was kind of mad he gave me so much. I think she was only mad because she couldn't give me that much. She gave me two hundred dollars, and honestly, I thought that was kind of a lot."

"You should take it. He owes you, your mom and your sister so much more than that. I bet you if he paid what he owed your mom in child support, you could get that much every few months."

"I don't want his money," Quinn says, her tone coming across a little strong. "But it would really help," she admits.

"Like two months of rent, or God only knows how many months of groceries. Or for your credit cards or--"

"Or take you on a trip somewhere," Quinn murmurs.

"Quinn," Rachel chides gently. "That money is for you. You should do something for yourself."

"Taking you on a trip somewhere _would_ be doing something nice for me. Then you would have to do whatever I say out of gratitude. Maybe then I could finally have that threesome or orgy."

Quinn laughs, but Rachel actually contemplates the last part. She has to admit she's thought about having a threesome, it's just that she can't think of anyone. Hope? Too awkward, and now she's dating Tim. Jesse? No, her jealousy issues would rise up in both directions, and anyway, he lives in New York now. The same with Mike. Plus, Quinn's never enjoyed sex with men and Rachel wants Quinn to be able to enjoy it. Rachel has to admit, she's entertained fantasies of Santana or Brittany, but Rachel is certain she would be murdered if she invited one without the other, and a foursome just seems a little advanced to her at this juncture. She's not exactly sure how that would work, would one person feel left out? And Quinn basically considers Santana and Brittany to be her sisters-- there is nothing carnal in the way Quinn feels for them.

"Have you thought about bringing someone else into…the bedroom?" Rachel asks, trailing off at the last part so it's uttered very lowly.

"What? Have _you_? Are you unhappy with…I-I thought we were happy and really good," Quinn says, sounding a bit panicked.

"Baby, you brought it up," Rachel points out in a murmur.

"It was a joke! I don't want to be with anyone else! Have _you_ thought about it?"

"I've contemplated in the sense it's something I want to try. But it's not something I _have_ to try if that makes sense. I'm very happy with…us," Rachel comforts. "More than happy. I would even characterize it as smug, although I would be smugger if we weren't so far apart for so long right now."

"Oh," Quinn murmurs.

They're both quiet for a while and the only thing that can be heard is light breathing.

"I thought about it, too," Quinn confesses shyly.

"Really?" Rachel murmurs. "Who've you thought about?"

"Um, that girl that comes to all your shows? She's like a groupie. Sugar something?"

Rachel laughs softly. "She's very cute."

"Uh…who were you thinking of?"

"No one," Rachel hedges quickly.

Rachel can almost picture Quinn's eyes narrow in suspicion. Quinn would make an excellent detective because she's great at spotting lies.

"Really?" Quinn presses, sounding dubious.

Rachel bites her lip. She wonders if she'll regret this. "Well…" she says. "I've thought about Brittany and/or Santana," she admits.

Quinn is quiet for a moment as she thinks about this. "They're like my sisters, Rachel," she says quietly.

"I know," Rachel murmurs. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Quinn says. "I…if you really want to, I bet they'd--"

"No," Rachel interrupts gently. "It's…alluring in theory. But I think it would be harmful in practice." She pauses. "And I think that while I'm very curious about the idea of introducing a third or even a fourth person for one night, when I think about it now…"

Rachel trails off. Now that she's said it out loud with Quinn, the thought of someone being intimate with Quinn, someone other than _her_ , just makes Rachel too jealous.

"What?" Quinn presses.

"It would make me too jealous," Rachel admits. "I don't want to share you."

"Good," Quinn breathes, sounding relieved. "I feel the same way."

"I'd just like to point out for future reference in the event of any arguments, that you brought up the idea of a threesome or orgy first."

"You're such a dude," Quinn says, the eye roll evident by the tone of her voice.

Rachel grins. "So, if you were to take me on a trip what sort of sexual favor _would_ you want?" she murmurs. "If it's you, I would do anything you know."

Quinn's breathing hitches. "Anything?"

"Anything," Rachel confirms. "Is there anything you've always wanted to try, baby? We don't have to go on a trip. We'll just have some fun when you come home. Did you want to tie me up? Spank me? I know we agreed to keep our tooshies a one way street, but I'm not dead-set on that, you know--"

Quinn bursts into laughter. "You had me until you said 'tooshies,'" she murmurs fondly. "I was…" she clears her throat. "I was kind of getting wet," she admits lowly, looking around because even though she's alone in her room and everyone in her family _knocks_ , she's still so embarrassed for herself for saying that out loud

Rachel pouts. "Are you saying that metaphorically I gave you limp dick?"

Quinn snorts. "Rachel."

"Well?"

"Well! Kinda! You said 'tooshies! The only thing worse you could have done is tell me you bought a pair of pajamas with feet and a trapdoor in the _tooshie_ area.'"

Rachel harrumphs. "Enable FaceTime."

"What?"

"On your phone. Enable FaceTime and I will, too. Then we'll see how much I give you metaphorical limp dick!"

"I-I-I was kidding! I mean, oh..o-okay."

It takes about a minute to connect but that's okay because by the time they do connect, Rachel has taken her clothes off.

"You're naked," Quinn whispers, when she gets to see Rachel.

The picture quality isn't great, but the image is unmistakable.

"Yes, I am," Rachel says proudly.

"Why are you naked?"

"I am as God made me," Rachel deadpans.

Quinn chuckles. "Baby," she says wryly.

Rachel smiles lopsidedly and holds up the phone with one hand and trails it down the length of her body, giving Quinn a good look before bringing it back up to her face. She gets a glimpse of Quinn's face and Quinn's eyes are wide.

"Tooshie," Rachel murmurs, puckering her lips in front of the lens. She begins moving the phone to expose her body again, but this time, she uses one hand to stroke her breast, giving Quinn an idea of what she's missing by being so far away. "Tooshie," she murmurs, loudly enough for the microphone to pick it up. She trails the phone down so it captures the image of her torso. She hovers the camera below the waist and she distinctly hears Quinn whimper. Rachel lies down in her bed and still with the camera position below her waist, begins moving one hand between her legs before fingering herself with two fingers. "Tooshie," she manages to murmur.

It's a little hard to masturbate with one hand while her other hand is holding her phone. She takes great precautions to make sure she keeps her camera-holding hand far enough away to ensure it remains sanitary, but close enough to give Quinn a really good look. It's hard, but Rachel is ambidextrous and she manages to make herself come in just a few minutes.

Still gasping, she brings the phone back up to her face and grins impishly into it.

"Tooshie," she says, a hint of challenge in her voice. "Are you still saying I give you metaphorical limp dick when I say that word?"

Quinn's eyes are wide and her breathing is loud and shallow. "I…I…" she stutters. "I…"

"You don't have to answer right now," Rachel says triumphantly, blowing Quinn a kiss. "You can call me later to give me your answer. Right now, I have to wash my hands." With that, Rachel grins and disconnects the call.

By the time she gets back from the bathroom after washing her hands, her phone is ringing.

It's Quinn asking for FaceTime. Once Rachel connects, she sees that Quinn is naked.

Quinn is blushing darkly. "You better realize how much I love you if I'm doing this in my mother's house," she whispers.

Rachel grins affectionately. "Did you lock the door?"

She knows that Quinn probably checked it four times before she did this, but she wants to tease her girlfriend a little.

"Yes," Quinn replies, but her eyes look toward the door for reassurance-- she's OCD that way.

Rachel grins and sits back on the bed. She holds up the phone to her face and watches the show.

When Quinn is getting close--Rachel can just see it, but she can also tell from the way Quinn is breathing, Rachel pleads, "let me see you face, baby."

Quinn brings up the phone to her face, so Rachel gets to see her girlfriend's face as she comes.

Rachel _loves_ the face Quinn makes when she comes-- her head thrown back, eyes shut tight. Sometimes her mouth is wide open, gasping and breathing harshly and other times, she bites down on her lower lip to silence her cries.

On this particular day, Quinn is biting down on her lower lip, but her mouth parts occasionally as shuddered breaths escape.

When Quinn finally comes, she's biting down on her lower lip for a moment before her mouth parts and then her tongue runs across her lower lip.

"See?" Quinn says, still gasping. "I can play, too."

Rachel grins because of all the games they play against each other on their iPhones, this is certainly more fun than Words with Friends or Hanging with Friends, and it's _way_ more fun than when she spent the morning playing Sudoku on her phone.

"Happy Christmas, baby," Rachel coos. "I can't wait until you come back."

"Happy Christmas," Quinn replies. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

\--

She plays a series of shows from Boxing Day to the night before New Years' Eve-- one a night for each of the five days.

She likes to keep busy, but she has to admit, having Quinn absent from these shows just makes Rachel miss her more.

\--

New Years' Eve, Rachel ends up feeling a little depressed. The year before, she played a show as the headliner at a midsize venue, but this particular year, she has nothing going for her.

She wakes up on the morning of New Years' Eve and her loneliness is particularly acute. She calls her mother and her sister and she barely refrains from crying. She tries her fathers a couple times and then realizes that the reason she can't reach them is because they're on a _cruise_ , so _duh_.

She spends most of the morning playing depressing folk music on her guitar and then spends a couple hours watching _Grave of the Fireflies_ because she needs a good cry. After that, she needs a pick-me-up, so she watches _Funny Girl_. She falls asleep while she's in the midst of a _Weeds_ marathon in the early evening.

She wakes up because she hears a key turning in her door. Her heart begins to race and she sits up as she grabs the nearest object she can reach, which turns out to be the remote control. She jumps to her feet, but she relaxes when she sees Quinn, Santana and Brittany standing there.

"Holy shit, Munchkin. You are, like, a bag of Cheetos and Diet Coke away from being some obese elderly shut-in," Santana snarks. She grins. "So before you get fat, show me your tits."

Brittany laughs, but Quinn turns to her and scowls, though she doesn't comment.

Rachel rushes over to take some of their luggage. "Get in here," she says. "What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until next week before the new quarter starts."

"I missed you," Quinn says softly.

"We missed you, too, munchkin," Brittany says with a grin. "Home was boring, so we came home to you instead."

Rachel grins. "I missed you guys, too."

Santana hoists up a canvas shopping bag. "We knew you wouldn't have any alcohol up in this bitch, so we stopped off on our way here from the airport." She rattles it slightly and the apartment is filled with the sound of glass clinking together. "We're going to have our own party here tonight!"

Rachel grins. "Sounds great."

\--

With just the four of them and copious amounts of alcohol and delivered food, Rachel can't help but contemplate the conversation she had with Quinn about threesomes and orgies. She's tempted-- really tempted, to initiate something, but she doesn't.

It's such sabotage to have fallen in love _before_ having met two candidates for a threesome or an orgy-- Rachel is sure of it.

\--

Rachel initially thinks Brittany and Santana will want to find a party or event to go to, but Santana scoffs at the idea.

"I'm not going out tonight-- everyone is a drunken asshole. And I'm _hot_ , I refuse to pay a cover charge and every fucker pays a cover charge on New Year's Eve."

Fair enough.

\--

It's a pretty sedate way to spend New Years' Eve-- just the four of them with copious amounts of vodka, tequila and delivery Thai food.

Rachel knows Santana and Brittany are both more Quinn's friends than hers--but Rachel feels really blessed to know them and to call them her friends.

They don't even do anything that significant-- they alternate between playing drinking games and Words with Friends with one another, listening to music and watching TV. But it's _fun_ and at midnight, Rachel gets to kiss her girlfriend, which is totally the best part.

"Happy New Year, baby," Rachel murmurs when they part.

"Happy New Year," Quinn echoes.

Rachel feels a tap on the back of her shoulder. She spins around and her lips are immediately captured by Brittany's.

The kiss is brief and Rachel stares at Brittany, wide-eyed, who giggles and bounces to Quinn to kiss her, too.

Watching the two blondes kiss, Rachel starts to have second thoughts about her stance on that foursome.


	12. Chapter 12

The new quarter begins and starts to pass pretty unremarkably.

Rachel wakes up at 2am on February 15th, still a little drunk and sex-stoned from the Valentine's Day celebrations with Quinn, because her girlfriend is poking her in the shoulder.

Quinn is trembling, and Rachel is instantly alert once she sees how distraught her girlfriend seems.

"Baby? What is it?" she asks, sitting up.

"I-I want to email my dad," Quinn says nervously. "I just woke up and I have this _impulse_ to do it, but I'm not sure if I should," she continues, bouncing nervously.

Rachel suppresses the desire to ask "that's _it_?" because she knows that this is _huge_ for Quinn.

"Do you want to?" Rachel asks, her voice still husky from sleep. She turns on the light on her nightstand and blinks against the sudden illumination. She knows this is love because with _anyone_ else, she would be giving a stern lecture on interrupting her much-needed, much-revitalizing sleep.

"Yes," Quinn says softly. "I don't think he'll ever be my dad again, but I at least want him in my life. It's weird having him, like, _out there_ and knowing where he is and not talking to him. It was one thing when I had no idea where he was, but I do now."

Rachel reaches out and squeezes Quinn's hand. "Baby steps, okay, baby? Why don't you get your laptop?"

"Okay," Quinn says quietly.

She leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later with the laptop in tow. She sits down with it and looks at Rachel expectantly.

Rachel chuckles and she smiles fondly at her girlfriend. "Why don't you take it out and get it set up?"

"Oh. Right," Quinn says, moving quickly.

Within a few minutes, the computer is booted up and Quinn is connected to her WiFi.

She logs into her email account and just stares at her inbox.

"You know, baby," Rachel says quietly. "The best thing about email is that if things don't go the way you want, you can block him and never even know that he's emailed you. I know you want to do this, baby. I just want you to know how proud of you I am and I'll support whatever you want."

Quinn takes a deep breath and looks at Rachel sadly. "He was always so harsh with me," she says quietly.

"I know, baby," Rachel says quietly.

She can't get the fact Russell broke Quinn's arm out of her mind. She knows a child's bones are much more fragile than an adult's, but Quinn wasn't a toddler when Russell broke her arm-- Quinn was _twelve_. Rachel can't stop wondering how much force it would take to break the arm of a twelve year old girl by grabbing and _twisting_.

Rachel will never forgive such brutality.

Quinn takes another deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to just do it because I'm still a little drunk right now."

"Liquid courage," Rachel quips lightly.

Quinn smiles and takes in another deep breath before she hits 'Compose Mail."

Rachel rests her hands on her girlfriend's feet as Quinn types her first email to her father.

Quinn's hand hovers over the 'send' button when it's complete. It takes her a few minutes to work up the courage, but she finally does.

Afterward, they turn out the lights and lie back down in bed, but Rachel can tell Quinn is having a hard time going back to sleep.

Rachel pulls Quinn close and kisses the back of her neck. Her hand rubs lazy circles on Quinn's belly as she spoons Quinn. She's not sure how to make Quinn feel better-- she never is when Quinn gets like this. She doesn't want to say anything flowery or cliché because really, she has no idea what it’s like to have father like Russell. Both her fathers can be critical, absolutely. They both have a way of making her feel awful about herself, but there's no way either of them would ever _hurt_ her to the point of breaking her arm and not even looking back.

So she settles for what she's best at-- inconsequential non-sequiturs.

"I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing…an animatronic Mickey Mouse," Rachel says.

Quinn pauses for a moment, but recovers. " _What?_ "

"It's a game, we're supposed each take turns saying 'I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing…' and we recite items in alphabetical order. And every time we add an item, we also recite all the other items that came before. Now you have to think of an item that starts with 'b' which is not necessarily a food."

"That sounds like a horrible picnic."

"Well, it's a pretend picnic, so it's okay."

"Fine," Quinn says. "Um, I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing an animatronic Mickey Mouse and…bananas."

"Oh, so a real picnic item, then," Rachel comments. "All right, then. I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing an animatronic Mickey Mouse, bananas and a cadre of cadavers."

"You're way more deranged than you look," Quinn notes. "Okay. I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing an animatronic Mickey Mouse, bananas, a cadre of cadavers and a dual band router."

Rachel snorts. "And you assert that I am a nerd?"

"You _are_ a nerd. Look at what you're bringing-- an animatronic Mickey Mouse and a cadre of cadavers, at least I'm bringing bananas, which you can eat and a dual band router to give us internet access. Yours will either turn into an evil robot or zombies."

Rachel chuckles. "Fine, I concede. I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing an animatronic Mickey Mouse, bananas, a cadre of cadavers, a dual band router and éclairs."

"Your éclairs can't compete with my bananas."

"Name me one person who prefers bananas to éclairs."

"Diabetics?"

"That's not an actual preference, that's out of necessity."

They bicker like that but manage to get all the way to 'S' when Rachel says 'saline solution' since she's a contact lens wearer. She waits for Quinn to remark about that, but Quinn is silent and Rachel realizes that Quinn's fallen asleep.

\--

The next night, Rachel holds Quinn's hand when there is a response from Russell.

They read through it together.

The email from Russell is brief, but warm. Attached is a picture of a newborn infant-- Quinn's baby sister, born only in the last week.

Quinn's face trembles as she stares at the picture of the baby girl.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks.

Quinn sniffles. "No one likes to know they've been replaced," she says quietly.

Rachel pulls her close and holds on tightly. Quinn clings to her.

Quinn buries her face into Rachel's neck and they stay that way for a while until Quinn pulls away and wipes at her eyes. "I'm okay, really," she says, sniffling.

Rachel smiles sadly at her girlfriend who always tries to be so strong.

"I know it's not right," Quinn says quietly. "She's this defenseless _baby_ , of _course_ I want him to take good care of her, but I'm _jealous_. It's not _fair_. Why couldn't he have been nice to _me_ , too?"

Rachel pets her hair comfortingly. "Do you want me to beat him up?"

Quinn laughs softly and gently elbows Rachel in the ribs. "Think you can take him, tough guy?"

Rachel bobs her head around and flexes her bicep. "Oh, I know I can," she says in her best imitation of Santana. She makes her eyes wide and crazy and does some weird thing with her lip where it kind of curls like Elvis and she's not even sure exactly what it is, but it certainly feels weird.

Quinn snorts back her laughter. "What can I do so you never make that face again?"

Rachel pouts. "That was my tough guy face!"

"You looked like an epileptic stroke victim."

Rachel gasps. "Quinn Fabray, that was a horrible thing to say."

"An epileptic stroke victim that has the misfortune of simultaneously having Parkinson's."

Rachel just gapes at her.

Quinn smiles beatifically, but she appears to have gathered momentum, because then she adds "and then got electrocuted."

It's terrible, but Rachel laughs heartily

Quinn's mood seems to improve after that.

Enough that she calls her father and has a very brief conversation with him to congratulate him on the birth of his new daughter.

Rachel knows her girlfriend is a better, bigger person than she will ever be.

\--

A few weeks later, Rachel is walking to class when her phone rings. She's used to unfamiliar numbers calling her because booking agents will call her for their venues. She's even getting calls from out-of-state venues, though generally, speaking she can't accept because of school.

"This is Rachel."

"Hey, Rachie. Remember me?"

Rachel swallows hard and she can actually feel blood drain from her face.

She knows that voice.

"Sheryl?" Rachel squeaks.

Sheryl laughs throatily. "Hey kiddo."

"H-h-how did you get m-my number?" Rachel stammers, and she feels so stupid for stuttering. Like some stupid kid.

"Your mom," Sheryl drawls. "I let her know I was coming out to LA for an audition. She said I should look you up and stay with you."

Rachel's grip tightens around her phone. ' _Mom,_ ,' she curses internally. She tries to think of something she could say to deter Sheryl from staying with her, but she doesn't have anything. And if she refuses, it will inevitably get back to her mother and she doesn't want to deal with her mother scolding her about not doing such a small favor for Sheryl. Rachel has no desire to see the girl who took her virginity and then treated her like garbage, but she doesn't feel like she has any choice.

"Okay," Rachel says quietly, reluctant.

"You don't sound happy," Sheryl teases. "Once upon a time, you couldn't take your eyes off me. What's the matter, you don't want to see me?"

No, actually, she doesn't. "When are you coming?" she asks, ignoring Sheryl's attempt to tease her.

\--

Predictably, Quinn is upset when Rachel tells her.

"No way!" Quinn shouts as she stands up from Rachel's couch. "Call her and tell her we don't want a statutory rapist in your apartment!"

Rachel reaches for Quinn, but Quinn steps out of the way as she paces the area rug in Rachel's living room.

"Baby," Rachel says. "She'll only be here for four days."

"Four days?! Why does she need to be here for four days? The audition should only take one!"

"She's never been to LA, so she wants to sightsee," Rachel says meekly.

Quinn kicks the leg of Rachel's couch. "No!" she shouts. "No! Absolutely not! She can't be here!"

Rachel reaches out and puts her hand on Quinn's hip. "Please stop yelling at me," she says softly. "I don't want her here, either. I just want to avoid a fight with my mother. If I don't let Sheryl stay here, it'll get back to my mother and she will be angry with me."

Quinn's ire seems to deflate. "But what she did to you--"

"I wanted it," Rachel says quietly. "Back then, I wanted it."

"You were thirteen and she was eighteen," Quinn says, her voice hard. "It wasn't okay. And it especially wasn't okay what she did to you afterward."

Rachel winces at the memory. "I wanted that considerably less," she concedes.

"Rachel, please don't let her stay here."

"Baby, I don't think I have a choice."

"Yes, you do! _Yes_ , you do! Call the bitch up and tell her that you don't owe her anything and she's lucky you didn't call the cops for what she did to you! Tell her to crawl off into a hole and die! Tell her if she comes here, I will punch her fucking heart out!"

"Quinn, please don't be so angry. It will only be for four days. Please try to understand-- she and I both have the same career aspirations, and she's already in shows off-Broadway. By the time I move to New York to start my own career, she could be very established. The circles are very small out there-- I don't want to have someone against me. Can you understand that?"

Quinn crosses her arms. "No! I don't want her here! She's the _scum_ of the earth!"

Rachel has to smile at the protective stance Quinn is taking. She stands up and wraps her arms around Quinn. She buries her face into Quinn's neck. It takes a moment for Quinn to relax, but she does.

"Honey, it was a one-night stand."

"It was your first time," Quinn whispers. "It should have been special."

Rachel chuckles softly, her breaths tickling at Quinn's collarbone. "I would have liked for it to have been special," she admits. "But I can also appreciate the drama of having one's first time _not_ be special. I will admit I did have an attachment to a more…romantic notion of my first time, but in retrospect, I think my story is more interesting than one that involves candles, rose petals, a fire place, a sweaty boy and rhapsodic declarations of undying teenage love."

Quinn laughs quietly. "Don't make jokes," she chides gently, sobering at the thought of Sheryl's treatment of a thirteen year old version of Rachel. "It should have been special. You deserved it to be special and she took that from you. It wasn't okay! It's still not okay!"

"I don't care about that," Rachel whispers. "Not anymore. Baby, don't be so distressed. It's not worth the frown lines," she says, pulling back to raise her hands to Quinn's face and gently rub at the unhappy furrow in Quinn's forehead."We'll be good hostesses, she will leave and we will never have to see her again."

"Maybe I'll kill her and make her disappear," Quinn says darkly.

"Quinn, we can't do that," Rachel says, affronted. "She'll be here in four days. That is not enough time to plan an unsolvable murder. We would need a minimum of four weeks."

"What makes you think that four weeks is the time you need to plan a murder?"

"Well, although the obvious mode of death is homicide, there are a multitude of ways to murder a person and though you and I do agree on a variety of topics, I do believe that we will debate the manner of murder, which would take a significant amount of time as we each research our preferred manners of murder and then bring it to the metaphorical table for debate." Rachel grins impishly. "The table is metaphorical, because we will likely be discussing it in bed."

"I got it," Quinn says wryly.

"Which would be strategic on my part because you tend to capitulate to me when we're engaged in sexual intercourse."

Quinn rubs her forehead. "You're borderline autistic, do you know that?"'

Rachel nods sagely. "I do fit several of the diagnostic criteria, although not enough to make a diagnosis, which I suppose is consistent with your characterization of me being 'borderline autistic.'"

"Rachel," Quinn says softly. "No matter how much you try to distract me by being all cute, I'm not going to be okay with that woman being here."

Rachel's face falls and her shoulders slump. "You've realized I do this?"

"Yeah, but usually it's about what we're going to cook for dinner or the movie we're going to watch on Netflix. Or who gets to use the bathroom first after we have sex."

"You're making us sound like an old agoraphobic couple."

"Stop," Quinn says. "I mean it. You're trying to distract me and usually that's cute. But I don't think it's cute right now."

Rachel deflates. "Sorry," she whispers.

"Okay, I think it's cute," Quinn amends. "But I'm not falling for it. I am not comfortable with someone who basically raped you staying here."

"She didn't _rape_ me," Rachel protests quietly.

"You told her to stop and she didn't. That's the very definition of rape."

"I wanted it," Rachel whispers. "Really. I was just confused and scared."

"Because you were thirteen fucking years old, Rachel. And she was eighteen. She was an adult, you were a kid. She was your mom's favorite student in her show choir. She should have known better. At the very least she should have owed it to your mom to keep her filthy fucking hands off you."

"I don't understand why you're so upset about something that happened so long ago," Rachel says softly.

"I don't understand why you aren't," Quinn retorts, her voice raised.

Rachel's face hardens. "If you don't like it, you don't have to be here when she gets here."

Quinn scowls. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to justify my choices to you. I've already explained my rationale and I think I've been very patient trying to assuage your concerns. But I'm not going to _beg_ you for your understanding. I'm not asking you for your permission. I was telling you about Sheryl's visit to be _courteous_ , but that's all. I've already told her she could stay and I've already informed my mother that I'm doing this. I cannot renege now. And I'm not going to try to make you see my point any further. This is not a discussion. It's closed."

Quinn puts her hands on her hips. "Rachel, what the _fuck_?"

Rachel crosses her arms in front of her chest. "You should go home."

"What? _Why_?!"

"Because this is unproductive. I wanted you to be supportive, which you're clearly not going to be, so I need to be alone tonight."

"I am being supportive! But that doesn't mean I have to tell you a terrible idea is a good one!"

"Well, maybe I just wanted you to say 'okay,' and have that be that. Maybe I didn't want to waste all this time discussing a simple matter with you! And since we're both going to be in foul moods now, I think you should go to your _own_ home."

Quinn's eyes narrow. "You always do this to me," she says. "Any time we disagree on anything, you either leave my apartment or you tell me to go home. And then you won't talk to me. I'm _sick_ of you punishing me by cutting me off when you don't like something I do. My therapist says it's 'emotional cut-off' and I think it's manipulative as fucking hell."

Rachel feels her temper flare up. "I was the one who told you to see a therapist and now you're using that quack _against_ me?"

"He's not a quack!"

"Well, if he's calling me manipulative, then he's a quack! I am not manipulative and I don't cut you off emotionally. Ever. You are the person I am most intimate with in the world. I'm intimate with you by _any_ definition and I'm _offended_ you would say that I manipulate you by using some ploy."

"Yeah? Anytime you don't like what I do, you ignore me. I can think of at least eight times just in the time we've been dating," Quinn sneers. "You think I'm making that up?"

"I asked for space. I don't think that's unreasonable."

"You ignore me! You punish me by ignoring me! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? Do you even _care_?" Quinn asks, her voice cracking.

Rachel swallows hard at the emotion in Quinn's voice and etched into Quinn's face. She thinks back to Quinn's mother once telling her that the one thing Quinn can't tolerate is being ignored, that although Quinn can tolerate being mad at, she needs to at least be _acknowledged_.

But she's tired today and she is more upset about Sheryl visiting than she is letting on. She wants to apologize for being a jerk-- she knows her reaction came out of left field and she's escalated a situation beyond where it needed to be. They weren't even _arguing_ , they were just talking. And she actually appreciates the way Quinn defends her honor. But Rachel is human, too, and she feels entitled to the occasional unreasonable freakout.

Rachel's mouth opens and she takes a few steps closer to Quinn, ready to apologize profusely. But then she stops and her face hardens. "I don't do what you're accusing me of," Rachel says flatly, even as her mind screams examples in which she actually does do that. "So, no. Quinn. I don't care if you're upset by something you're accusing me that I do which I _don't_ do." Rachel pauses at the crestfallen look on Quinn's face, but Rachel is upset now and when she's upset, she lashes out. It's something she and Quinn have in common, and it's something they've both agreed they would endeavor not to do to one another since they both realize it could be the downfall of their relationship. "In fact, I don't give a _fuck_. If you don't like my choices, you can fuck off. We _don't_ have to keep dating, you know."

Quinn stares at her incredulously for a moment and the _look_ on Quinn's face…it's like Quinn is looking at a stranger. A small sob escapes from Quinn's throat, and she spins around, grabs her purse and stalks out of Rachel's apartment.

'Go after her!'

Rachel's mind screams at her to go after Quinn, to _apologize_ , because if she will just run after Quinn now, they'll both cry a little-- maybe a lot. Maybe they'll have some teary, embarrassing scene in front of her building. But then Quinn will follow her back and they could _talk_ and Rachel can explain the twisty feeling in her stomach at the thought of Sheryl Spencer coming into her home--- _invading_ her home. She's felt nauseous since she got that call and she wants to tell Quinn how much the memory of her first time actually still _hurts_.

But she doesn't.

She feels nauseous again, but more than that, she feels sick with herself for the way she's treating Quinn, for hurting someone who's been good to her-- who _always_ at least tries to be good to her, which is more than Rachel can say for the majority of people in her life. She feels like a _horrible_ person, but she's just too sad and tired right now to make someone else feel better.

She goes into her bathroom and dry heaves the empty contents of her stomach.

She doesn't call Quinn that night.

Quinn calls, but Rachel doesn't pick up.

At midnight, when Rachel is in bed staring up at the ceiling, and feeling how cold and empty her bed is, she gets a text from Quinn.

_I love you. Are we okay?_

Rachel doesn't text back.

She thinks about what Quinn told her--'I'm sick of you punishing me by cutting me off when you don't like something I do. My therapist says it's 'emotional cut-off' and I think it's manipulative as fucking hell' and she knows what Quinn told her is true.

'Fuck,' Rachel thinks.

People say women tend to choose partners who reminds them of their fathers and at the moment, Rachel wonders if Quinn stays with her because Rachel reminds her of her father. It's unpleasant to think of, considering how abusive Russell was to Quinn, but Rachel knows one of the most painful things Russell used to do to Quinn was to ignore her and treat her as though she weren't even there.

Realizing she's capable of the same behaviors is not a happy epiphany for Rachel.

She contemplates ending their relationship, primarily because she wants to save Quinn the pain of repeating history. But Rachel knows she is selfish and she just can't let Quinn go even though it will probably be better for Quinn in the end.

Her thoughts start to spin out of control-- this sort of thing happens to her frequently. It starts with feeling guilty about the fight and it quickly spins into feeling worthless, and that Quinn will be better off without her but she's too selfish to let Quinn go, which in turn highlights how worthless and undeserving of all the love Quinn gives her, she truly is.

She can't sleep all night-- she stares at the cracks in her ceiling, she runs through the NATO alphabet in her mind and she wonders how long it would take to count every strand of hair on her head.

When it's five am, she realizes normally, she would be going for her run. But she doesn't feel like partaking in routine. At six am, she can't take the inaction anymore and gets out of bed.

She brushes her teeth and showers. She doesn’t feel like making an effort in her appearance, but she doesn't want to look terrible when she sees Quinn to beg for forgiveness because she doesn't want to give Quinn a reason to end things by looking gross, even when she knows that Quinn is not that shallow.

It's early, but she stops by the grocery store to pick up some items to make Quinn a breakfast scramble and some flowers.

She lets herself into Quinn's apartment. Her heart _clenches_ when she sees Quinn huddled on her couch, her crying audible

Quinn sits up when Rachel opens the door and pauses at the threshold.

"What are you doing here?" she snaps harshly.

Rachel swallows hard. "I thought I could make you breakfast," she says softly. "Can I come on?"

"You're going to do what you want anyway, so I _guess_."

Rachel swallows, but walks inside and closes the door. She walks into the kitchen and puts everything she needs to put away into the refrigerator. She walks back into the living room and hands Quinn the bouquet of flowers.

"It's not great," Rachel apologizes. "But how much can one expect from a floral arrangement at a grocery store?"

Quinn crosses her arms and looks away, not accepting the offering. "So, when I fuck up I basically have to get on my knees and beg you to forgive me, right? I have to rip my heart out to make you believe me. But you fuck up and you think that making me breakfast and buying me flowers is going to enough." Quinn snorts derisively. "You're just like my dad."

Rachel swallows uncomfortably. She gets down onto her knees next to the couch and sets the flowers aside. She's ready to beg for forgiveness. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I was awful to you last night. I know I just _attacked_ you out of nowhere and you didn't deserve that. You were just trying to be good to me and I was terrible to you. I'm so sorry, Quinn. You deserve more from me than that. I am so, so sorry."

Rachel reaches for Quinn's hand, but Quinn recoils, leaning back into the couch.

"You're the one who said that we don't have to keep dating," Quinn says flatly. "If I recall correctly, you told me I should fuck off."

Rachel winces as she thinks about how harsh she was.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Rachel whispers.

"Don't call me that."

Rachel swallows. "What do you want me to do?" she whispers. "Just tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it better. I'll do anything," she says, emphasizing the word 'anything. "I'm begging you," she pleads. "I'm groveling," she whispers and she presses kisses to Quinn's feet because that's the only thing she can think of to sufficiently communicate how low she feels in relation to Quinn right now. "I'm begging you. Tell me what to do. I'll do anything. If you told me to get naked and stand on the street corner outside holding a sign about what a terrible person I am, I'll do it. If you want to make me suffer in _any_ manner you see fit, I'll take it. Just _please_ believe me. I'm so sorry. I know. I know I was out of line last night. You didn't deserve that."

"Why do you always tell me to leave?" Quinn asks, her voice trembling. "You don't have to tell me to get out."

"I don't think I've ever told you to 'get out,'" Rachel protests quietly.

"But that's what you mean," Quinn says heatedly. " _Do_ you care how that makes me feel?"

Rachel swallows. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I just don't know how else to be," she admits. "I don't trust myself when I'm angry and I just need to…disengage for a while. I _do_ care how that makes you feel. I just…" she trails off, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm sincerely sorry. Please. I'm begging you to forgive me. I'm sorry." She bends her head down to kiss Quinn's feet again. "I'm sorry."

Quinn pulls her feet away. "Rachel…don't…don't do that."

"I'll do anything," Rachel whispers.

"Are you going to tell her she can't stay with you?"

Rachel flinches. "Quinn, I already explained to you why I'm letting her stay at my apartment. She's my mom's favorite student, _ever_. If I don't let her stay with me, it'll get back to my mother and my mother will be angry with me for not doing Sheryl a favor."

Quinn's eyes narrow. "And you really think your mom is going to like this bitch so much if she knew what she did to you? You really think your mom would want this bitch anywhere _near_ you if she knew? I'm not being unreasonable. I'm not being jealous," Quinn says, her voice wavering. "I'm trying to protect you! Can't you see that? I've _seen_ pictures of you when you were thirteen. You looked ten! And she still did that! I don't want her anywhere near you! And I get what you're saying about your mom, but come _on_ , Rachel! What if your mother knew?"

"I can’t tell my mother about it," Rachel says helplessly. "My mother will be so upset. And it's _humiliating_ for me. It's…it's not the sort of thing you want your parents to ever know about you. Don't you understand? I have to do this. It's just four days. And then we'll never have to think about her again."

"And what about the next time she has an audition or something?"

Rachel flinches. "I…I don't know."

"Why don’t you explain to me how I'm so unsupportive because I don't agree with this."

Rachel flinches again. "Baby, I'm so sorry about that. You are supportive-- often more than you need to be and definitely more than I deserve. You're my biggest cheerleader."

"Get off the floor," Quinn says quietly. She slaps her hand down on the couch cushion next to her.

Rachel swallows hard, wincing a little because her knees feel stiff from kneeling for so long. She sits on the couch next to Quinn.

"Do your knees hurt?" Quinn asks quietly, gently rubbing one of Rachel's knees.

Wordlessly, Rachel shakes her head.

"I know what it feels like when you're on your knees for too long."

A suggestive rejoinder about oral sex floats through Rachel's mind, but she feels ashamed for even thinking it because she knows how much she hurt Quinn the night before. And she also knows that Quinn's father used to make her get on her knees and pray for hours as punishment for what he perceived as manifestations of impure gay thoughts. She doesn't think that she should make any jokes especially after Quinn compared Rachel to Russell Fabray-- particularly when the comparison isn't so far off.

"Quinn," Rachel says quietly. "I'm sorry for how I spoke to you last night. It was disrespectful and _ugly_. You deserved better. "

Quinn sighs. "It's okay," she says. "I guess I get you were having a bad day," she says lowly. "It doesn't mean I have to like it or accept it if it keeps happening. If it keeps happening, then no, it won't be okay. But today, it's okay."

Rachel lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," she repeats.

"I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Rachel whispers.

Quinn gives her a look. "Anything? So if I told you not to let that woman stay with you, you would give me that?"

"Is that what you were going to ask me?" Rachel asks quietly.

Quinn snorts. "No," she admits. "I know that's a closed topic," she says, the bitterness evident in her voice. She takes a deep breath and when she speaks again, she sounds calmer. "The next time we fight, you can't tell me to get out. We can fight about it, but I hate it when you tell me to get out and then ignore me until you feel like talking to me again. You make me feel like I'm _nothing_ to you. I try so hard to be good to you and I make you mad and you tell me to leave and what, you just forget about me?" Quinn whispers harshly.

"Quinn, _no_. It's not like that at _all_. I just get so angry sometimes and it's just…it's dangerous sometimes to be around me. It's _better_ for you not to be around me."

Quinn swallows hard. "Be honest with me," she says quietly. "Have you…" she clears her throat. "Have you ever been so mad you wanted to hit me?"

Rachel's eyes widen. "Of course not!"

"Then _why_ do you keep sending me away?" Quinn asks, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says, grabbing Quinn into a tight hug. "I'm _so_ sorry. I'm sorry," she sobs. "I never wanted you to feel like this."

Quinn sniffles and she holds onto Rachel for a long moment before she wipes at her eyes and pulls away.

"Well, go make me breakfast, woman," Quinn says, sniffling and pulling a tissue out of the box on her coffee table. "And remember I like my bacon extra crispy and my coffee extra strong."

Rachel wipes her arm across her eyes. "Wait, that's…that's it? You aren't mad anymore? You aren't going to make me grovel?"

"It's your free pass," Quinn says quietly. "And I never wanted you to grovel-- I'd _never_ want you to _grovel_. I just want you to mean it when you apologize."

Rachel swallows hard and her face trembles a little before she nods. She wipes at her eyes again. "I'm going to make you breakfast," she whispers.

\--

Rachel is as feministy as anyone, and she has issues with her guy friends who insult one another with terms for female anatomy. But as she and Quinn cry a lot over breakfast, she thinks to herself, 'we're such girls.'

They skip classes and spend the day at Quinn's apartment. Things are still a little tense between them, but it's okay.

\--

She's in one of the practice rooms that night on campus while Quinn is in one of the study rooms in the library with her Econ study group when her phone buzzes.

Sheryl.

Rachel is a little hesitant, but since Sheryl will be coming to LA in a few days to stay with her, Rachel thinks she should get over it. So, she answers.

"Hi Sheryl."

"Hey Rachie."

Rachel hates the nickname 'Rachie.' The only people who've ever called her 'Rachie' are Sheryl and her senile great-uncle, Henry, who once groped her not-yet developed breasts when she was eleven because he mistook her for some nurse he met at a USO dance about a million years prior. But she doesn't call Sheryl out on that terrible nickname

"What can I do for you?" Rachel asks politely.

Sheryl laughs softly. "I was thinking," she murmurs, "It's been so long since I laid eyes on you, you should send me a picture of you so I can recognize you."

"You…you want a picture of me?"

"Well, why not?" Sheryl murmurs. "Surely, you're taller than four foot ten and about eighty pounds, haven't you?" she teases.

Rachel flushes. "Yes, but…"

"Come on, Rachie. What's the harm? Do you have an iPhone? Get on FaceTime with me."

UCLA has a wireless connection everywhere, but in the cavernous music practice rooms, it can be difficult and FaceTime requires a steady WiFi connection.

"I have an iPhone, but I don't have a wireless connection right now."

"You should still send me a picture," Sheryl murmurs. "See you in a few days, Rachie." Sheryl laughs softly. "I expect a picture in a few minutes, kiddo."

The line disconnects and Rachel swallows hard. She bites her lower lip. What's the harm?

Rachel takes her own picture and sends it via text message to Sheryl.

Within a couple minutes, she gets a response back.

_From: Sheryl Spencer_

_You look so grown-up and pretty now. You look just like your mom_.

This pleases Rachel. While she's heard all her life that she looks just like her mom, Rachel has always felt like the ugly duckling despite the fact she always thought her mother is prettier than any Barbie she ever had as a kid. She has to admit being called "pretty" by Sheryl means a lot because Sheryl was the one who went out of her way to tell Rachel she wasn't, all those years ago.

There's a picture attached to the text message. Sheryl is even more beautiful than Rachel remembers.

Ten more minutes pass when her phone buzzes again-- once again, it's Sheryl.

"I was just thinking about how I can't wait to see you," Sheryl murmurs. "You're going to have to show me around LA"

"I-I-I haven't really done much in the way of tourist attractions," Rachel stammers. "I don't really know what to show you."

Sheryl laughs. "Why don't you show me your life and if you ever visit New York, I'll show you mine."

Rachel blushes at the suggestive tone in Sheryl's voice. "O-okay," she says.

But the mention of Sheryl's life in New York piques Rachel's curiosity. She knows that Sheryl's current life will be her future life, with auditions, rejections, late nights, tiny apartments, off-Broadway shows, off-off- _off_ Broadway shows and hopes to one day grace the stage at the Gershwin.

So, Rachel asks and Sheryl tells. And it's not really Sheryl she's interested in, but Sheryl's life. She's more fascinated on a statistical level-- she and Sheryl are both from the same small town and the odds of success are stacked against both of them. Even though she knows they are very different people, if Sheryl succeeds, Rachel feels like maybe she'll have a better chance of success, too.

Sheryl's story is more instructional than anything else.

Sheryl's life isn't exactly what Rachel wants-- she hopes that by the time she is 25, she will have more success than Sheryl has. But still, Sheryl is working-- she's had parts in off-Broadway plays and she'll be in LA to audition for a guest stint on a TV show. The stories Sheryl regales Rachel with make Rachel long for graduation so she can leave LA for New York. But she still has one full school year to go. Rachel still intends to move to New York after college, and from the discussions she's had with Quinn about the future, Rachel knows that if everything stays on track, Quinn will come with her.

Without even realizing, Rachel realizes she's spent three hours talking to Sheryl.

"I should go," Rachel says apologetically. "I have to meet my girlfriend. She's probably been waiting for me for hours."

"Your mom mentioned you were dating someone. What's her name? Mindy? Ginny?"

Rachel blinks. "Quinn," she says slowly, wondering how anyone could confused a name like Quinn for Mindy or Ginny.

"Right," Sheryl drawls. "I'm not so surprised you're dating a girl now," she says lightly. "I still remember the way you used to look at me. It always made me feel like I was the only girl in the world. You ever think about me, Rachie? And that day we had?"

Rachel swallows hard. "Sometimes," she whispers.

"You were always so goddamn sweet, Rachie," Sheryl murmurs. "It always made me sad you were too young for me. You always knew how to make me feel good after your mom put me down. Do you remember that? Anytime your mom criticized me, you'd find me and tell me you thought I was fantastic."

"You _were_ fantastic," Rachel breathes. "You were."

Sheryl is indeed her mother's favorite student, ever, but when Sheryl was a member of Shelby's show choir, Rachel can vividly remember how hard her mother was on Sheryl. But her mother was hard on _everyone_. Rachel even tried to defend her mother's students, particularly Sheryl, but her mother always defended her teaching methods by saying that her criticisms were constructive which made students better and strive for their best.

"You were too young for me back then," Sheryl murmurs. "It was wrong what I did to you. I know that."

Rachel's stomach does a summersault. "I…I…" she doesn't know what to say, so her voice trails off weakly.

"I was mad at your mom that day," Sheryl admits. "I was trying to get back at her for always putting me down. She had a way of really tearing us apart-- all the kids she used to coach."

"But you told me not to tell her! How…how would that get b-back at h-her?" Rachel stammers.

"It just felt good knowing I got her where it would hurt her most. You know you're her pride and joy, kid."

"That's Audrey," Rachel corrects.

"No, it's you," Sheryl says softly. "And I'm sorry for that day, kiddo. You didn't deserve that, Rachie. You were such a cutie. I should have treated you better, but I was too pissed at your mom."

Sheryl sounds so sweet that Rachel is immediately disarmed.

There are so many things Rachel wants to say right now. Things like, 'how could you?' or 'why didn't you stop?" or 'why didn't you think I was pretty?' She wishes she still had that list that Sheryl gave her when she was the thirteen to Sheryl's eighteen, that list that delineated all her faults-- faults Rachel had been fairly certain she still possessed until she met Quinn. But of course, when she showed that list to Quinn, Quinn destroyed it. Rachel knows she's better off without it, but she wishes she could go over each and every point to ask Sheryl if she really meant this or that.

Most of the time, she doesn't even think about it-- it's just that when she does think about it, particularly about what came afterward, it makes her sad, and she carried the aftermath with her for so long, she's not sure how to relieve herself of that burden. When she thinks about that list, she still gets paranoid that no one will ever find her beautiful, no one will ever love her and no one will ever tolerate her even enough to be her friend.

"My mom would have killed you," Rachel murmurs.

And it's true. Years after that afternoon with Sheryl, she had to confess to her mother that she was pregnant with Jesse's child. Her mother chased Jesse for six blocks on foot screaming, 'how dare you get my daughter pregnant, you selfish little prick!' She can't imagine what her mother would do to Sheryl, even if she withheld some of the gorier and squishier details.

"She would have," Sheryl agrees. "But that's all water under the bridge now, don't you think?"

Rachel wants to protest. Sheryl is the reason she used to be terrified of sex with another woman. She loved her high school boyfriends-- she wouldn't have sustained such lengthy relationships with either of them if she hadn’t been in love, to the point of sustaining a long-distance one with Jesse when he graduated a few years before she did and moved to LA first. But she squelched her attractions to other girls and not for any reason other than she was too afraid of a repeat of Sheryl. Even being in love with Quinn and wanting the blonde desperately didn't change that initially-- she'd been terrified of having sex with Quinn for the first time and kept putting it off even when she was screaming at herself to just let it happen naturally.

Sheryl made her afraid for so long, and yes, she isn't afraid anymore-- at least, not with Quinn.

However, the rest of the world, and women, in particular, still terrify her. But Quinn is definitely her safe haven.

It is not water under bridge for her.

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, and she wants to say something immature like, "I don't forgive you" or "you have cooties, you're gross," but Sheryl speaks.

"You're really beautiful now, Rachie," Sheryl murmurs.

"I...um…thank you," Rachel says finally.

"It makes me wish I'd held onto you back then," Sheryl murmurs. "You're such a sweetie, you'd probably still be so good to me now, right?"

"I..I…um..," Rachel stammers out. She's so uncomfortable, she's thinking about faking bad reception.

"Anyway," Sheryl murmurs. "You have to go now, right? Find that little girlfriend of yours?"

"I…okay."

She's thoroughly unsettled. She hastily leaves the practice rooms-- it's late, past eleven pm. She runs toward the library and finds Quinn in one of the study pods.

Quinn is by herself, the study group long-disbanded for the night.

"Hi," Rachel says breathlessly. "I'm sorry, I got…distracted."

Quinn gives her a bright, trusting smile. "It's okay. I know you get a little lost sometimes and time gets away from you."

Rachel feels awful even though she knows she hasn't done anything wrong. She grabs Quinn by the hand. "Let’s go back to my place."

\--

She wakes up in the middle of the night because her phone buzzes. It's a text message from Sheryl with a photo attached.

Sheryl's topless, the text message reading: _thinking of you_.

Rachel shrieks at the sight of another woman's bare breasts other than her own or Quinn's. Rachel's face reddens in embarrassment. Instinctually, one hand clamps over her eyes, and then she frantically deletes it.

"Who was it?" Quinn asks sleepily. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"N-No one," Rachel stutters. "I-it was one of those telemarketing schemes."

"Oh, okay."

Rachel swallows hard and turns her phone onto silent.

When she gets up the next morning, she has nine new text messages from Sheryl, each with a photo of Sheryl in various stages of undress. Rachel swallows hard, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Rachel grabs her phone and walks into the living room. She deletes each picture and starts to call Sheryl multiple times but then stops herself because she's concerned about waking Sheryl up.

It's five am, which is eight am in New York. Rachel decides to chance that Sheryl is awake and calls her. It's not like eight am is two am.

Sheryl answers almost immediately.

"Hi, Rachie."

"Hi," Rachel greets quietly. "I…I got your text messages," she says.

Sheryl laughs. "And I got nothing in return? Ever heard of quid pro quo, Rachie?"

"I-I can't," Rachel stammers. "I have a girlfriend. I love her. It would be in-inappropriate. Y-you have to stop sending me photos like that. It's not okay! Quinn would be so hurt if she knew. You have to stop!"

"Rachie, sweetheart," Sheryl murmurs. "We're both adults now. And I know you've always wanted to have another go at me. I'm giving you what you want. In a couple days, I'll be out there and I'll repay your hospitality in a way that will be good for both of us."

"No, I don't want that," Rachel exclaims. She's ashamed she's on the verge of tears like the stupid crybaby Sheryl told her she was all those years ago. "I don't want this," she repeats. "You can't send me naked pictures of yourself! It's inappropriate! It's pornographic!"

"Yes, you do, baby girl. Come on."

"You have to stop. I have a girlfriend!"

"No one says you can't, Rachel. She can still be your girlfriend. Just don't tell her."

"Stop!"

Sheryl laughs. "I tasted your pussy once, Rachel, do you really mean to tell me I can't taste it again? Because it's all I've been thinking about doing since we talked last night."

Tears spring up in Rachel's eyes. The words are so crude, so crass, but whispered in a way that's intended to both seduce and offend. But Rachel is just offended and mortified. She knows right away that Sheryl is definitely not sorry for what she did. An angry sob escapes her throat.

"Stop crying," Sheryl orders gently. "You're an adult, I'm treating you like one. You begged me to do that, remember? Be a good girl, baby."

Rachel swallows hard. When she was thirteen, Sheryl said the same thing and it was really the very thing that made Rachel give into her. A hard slap to the face and then a 'be a good girl, baby,' was all it took to make her acquiesce when she was a kid. But she wasn't a kid _now_ , she couldn't _excuse_ this with youth. She had to make this stop.

"Stop it," Rachel whispers. "Just stop. I don't want any part of this."

"You want this," Sheryl murmurs. "Who do you think you're kidding? I heard the way you talked to me last night. You were three seconds away from begging me to have phone sex with you the way you begged me to let you go down on me again after I fucked you. Do you remember that? You got on your bike and rode all those miles to my house with flowers and chocolate."

Rachel flushes at the memory of her younger self. "I have a girlfriend."

"Who are you trying to fool?" Sheryl asks. "You should have heard yourself last night, talking to me that way," she says scornfully.

Rachel bites down on her lip. She has a bad feeling. "Sheryl, I don't think you should stay here when you come out to LA for your audition."

"What's the matter, Rachie? Don't trust yourself around me? Afraid you're going to cheat on that little girlfriend of yours?

"I would never cheat on Quinn," Rachel says firmly. "But your behavior is inappropriate and I think we should all spare ourselves undue grief. I'm rescinding my invitation."

"You're a little bitch, Rachie," Sheryl says with saccharine sweetness. "I bet you rubbed one out while we were talking and now you feel guilty and have to put on this act. You're a little bitch just like your cunt mother. Just remember that you were the little cunt who biked all the way to my house with some sad ass flowers and chocolate begging me to let you eat me out again. Don't you remember telling me how you would eat me out as much as I wanted if I showed you how I like it? You begged me to teach you. All you wanted to do was eat my pussy, remember that?"

It feels like a punch to her stomach. Rachel desperately wills herself not to cry.

"Well, yes," Rachel says with a tremor in her voice. She can almost see the triumphant smirk on Sheryl's face. She doesn't understand what she could have done to incur this much hatred. "But I was thirteen. Thirteen year olds aren't known for their common sense or intelligence."

"You're a little fucking cunt," Sheryl says flatly. "And that little girlfriend you're with? Unless she's a total dog, she has an angle. She doesn't actually love you. No one ever will. All you'll ever be good for is your _mouth_ , you little bitch. Because you don't have anything to offer _anyone_. You're an ugly, untalented little bitch and you will never make it on Broadway because you can't even give good head. I bet your girlfriend pukes after every time she goes down on you--I know I did, and I only did it once."

Rachel swallows hard because Sheryl just touched upon most of her deepest insecurities and fears.

"I feel sad for you," Rachel says quietly, her voice wavering a bit. "You were really talented once. And my mother really cared for you, despite how you feel about her. If you're still angry about how my mother criticized your performances while you were in _high school_ , I feel really sorry for you because that seems to be the sort of thing one should have gotten over a long time ago."

The vituperative tone in Sheryl's voice coupled with how suddenly Sheryl turned on her makes Rachel believe Sheryl's intentions for staying with her were very sinister.

"You're a little cunt," Sheryl hisses. "Your cunt mother never had a kind word to say to anyone. And I hope she breaks you the way she broke her students. You're _nothing_ , Rachie."

"Yes, you've mentioned that. However, I find this conversation to be unproductive. So I am going to hang up now."

"I hate you, you little cunt. I should have slit your throat so you'd never sing again. You think your cunt mother would have loved you after that?"

Rachel ends the call and stays seated on the couch. She's shaken by the call, but she feels entitled to that. She doesn't understand people sometimes. What is _wrong_ with them? She's been nothing but nice to Sheryl, and really, she tries to be nice to _everyone_. She knows she can be a little blunt sometimes which in turn can come across as _a lot_ tactless, but she'd never go out of her way to be cruel to someone. She'd never call someone a cunt or a bitch or anything derogatory just to _hurt_ them. She's disturbed by the level of hatred Sheryl seems to have for her and her mother.

She's still sitting on the couch when Quinn wanders in, yawning.

"Baby? I thought I heard you in here. What are you doing just sitting there?" Quinn asks in confusion. She squints at the wall clock in Rachel's living room. "It's almost 5:30 am, baby. Aren't you usually running into the gym by now?"

"Yeah," Rachel says softly.

Quinn frowns. "Well, won't you spontaneously combust if you don't keep to your insane routine?" she jokes.

Rachel laughs. "Silly."

Quinn chuckles and flops down on the sofa next to Rachel. "You mean some mad scientist didn't put a bomb around your neck and make you stick to some weird military routine?"

"No, Quinn," Rachel says wryly.

Quinn pokes at Rachel thigh with her big toe. "Then why don't you ever let me sleep in! Every morning, you get up and you sing while you get dressed."

"I didn't know that bothered you," Rachel says quietly.

The broad grin snaps off Quinn's face. "It doesn't," she says. She bites down on her lower lip, and as if gauging Rachel's mood she pokes Rachel's shoulder with her index finger. "It's just that you always sing one of five songs, and I wish you'd change up your repertoire."

Rachel smiles wryly, because that's actually factual. "What would you like me to start singing?"

Quinn thinks about it. "Do you know that song 'Maps'?"

"The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Yeah."

"Yeah."

Quinn blinks that sounded really weird.

"Yes? You want me to sing that?"

Quinn contemplates it. "No," she admits. "Not while you get ready for your workout. Maybe you should sing it as a cover during one of your shows."

"Maybe I should," Rachel says. " _Wait, they don't love you like I love you_ " she sings.

Quinn smiles. "I love that song."

Rachel bites her lip. It's quiet for a moment as they just stare at one another, each of them hearing 'Maps' in their heads. "I need to tell you something and it might make you angry, but I swear to you, _nothing_ happened."

Quinn looks instantly wary. "Okay."

"Sheryl called me last night. We had a very good conversation. But last night…she…she sent me a series of naked pictures of herself. I got them this morning."

Quinn's face becomes expressionless. "Let me see," she says flatly.

Rachel blinks. "I already deleted them."

Quinn visibly brightens. "You did?"

"Well, of course. What would I do with unsolicited pornography? I don't have an empire sending out spam email, Quinn."

Quinn swallows hard. "Well, I thought…I don't know. I thought you were going to ask me to have her be our third when she comes here. I mean, you said she's really beautiful, right?"

"I told you, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen _and_ I'm too jealous for a third party in our bedroom."

Quinn gives her a small smile, but then her eyes narrow. "Did she say something to you?" she practically hisses.

Rachel's expression gives her away. "Quinn--"

"What did she say to you?!"

"Quinn, it's nothing," Rachel says, but her voice wavers and her eyes fill with tears at the ugly things Sheryl said.

"You look upset," Quinn says quietly. "What did she say to you?"

"I'm not upset," Rachel denies, but her lip trembles.

"What did she say to you?!"

"It's nothing," Rachel says lowly. "I don't know why I'm so upset. Perhaps it's PMS."

"You don't get PMS. You think it’s weird when I do."

"There's a first time for everything and anyway, I only think it's weird because I feel like you'd eat your own arm when you're hungry and thwarted. Maybe one day I will finally understand how my period works. Perhaps there will come a day when I can feel when I ovulate."

"Everyone looks like they're going to eat their own arm when they're hungry and thwarted, you're the only one who is relentlessly cheerful when you're hungry."

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Rachel," Quinn says softly. "What did she say to you? Please tell me."

Rachel bites her lower lip. She feels _humiliated_. The thought of having to say all of that out loud is embarrassing for her. And more importantly, she doesn't want to give Quinn any ideas-- she doesn't want to make Quinn think that maybe all Rachel is good for is her mouth.

"It's nothing, really," Rachel says, forcing a smile. "I overreacted. I'm sure we will have a wonderful visit when she stays here." She wants to end the conversation right now, but she forgot she already told Quinn about the pictures.

Sheryl won't be staying with her, but that's not something she needs to focus on right now. She just wants the conversation to end.

"Rachel, if she steps foot in here, after sending you naked pictures, I'm punching her fucking heart out after I glass her in the throat."

Rachel manages to smile. "You've been spending too much time around Santana."

"She's not staying here!"

"I know," Rachel says quietly. "I already rescinded my invitation."

Quinn looks confused. "Then why did you…nevermind," she says. "What did she say to you to upset you?"

Rachel smiles. "It doesn't matter."

Quinn smiles back. She nuzzles Rachel's temple and the kisses Rachel's earlobe. "Come on, Rachel. You can tell me anything, baby."

Rachel swallows hard. "I know that," she says thickly.

"So tell me," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel takes a deep breath and her hands ball into fists. She hates herself right now. She pictures every vampire movie she's ever seen that doesn't involve ones that sparkle in sunlight. In vampire movies, there's always a scene where some vampire is turned into a pile of ashes in the sunlight. She kind of feels like that.

Rachel has to pause a few times, but eventually, she tells Quinn everything.

"I'll kill her," Quinn swears. She pounds her fist into the arm of the couch. "Slowly. Painfully."

"Baby…"

"She must be punished!"

"We'd be the prime suspects, baby."

"We'll hire someone."

"I don't have any money to hire a contract killer, baby. Do you?"

"No," Quinn says glumly. She brightens. "But I'm really more of a do-it-yourself person. And I've watched all the seasons of _Dexter_."

Rachel laughs, and holy God, she actually _feels_ like laughing.

"She was full of shit, baby," Quinn whispers. "She's one of those lame people that can't get over high school."

Rachel trembles. "What do you think my mom did to make Sheryl hate her that much?"

"I don't think your mom did anything to warrant Sheryl taking it out on _you_." Unconsciously, Quinn clenches her fist. "That bitch."

"You love me, right?" Rachel asks quietly.

She feels foolish for asking, for needing the reassurance. Most of the time, she believes Quinn loves her-- she can feel it. But she's human and she gets insecure.

"So much," Quinn assures. She rubs Rachel's hand in that space between Rachel's right thumb and index finger. Quinn's hand is soft, warm and comforting.

Rachel sighs. "I should have listened to you. About her," she whispers.

Quinn flinches. "I'm not happy about being right, you know."

Rachel smiles crookedly. "For once," she teases.

Quinn taps her index, middle and fourth fingers across Rachel's right cheeks, like a piano. "You like being right, too, you know. This is why you have a 'I told you' song."

"I was four when I penned the 'I told you' song!"

"So it started really early, apparently."

"My talent?"

"Your need to be right," Quinn murmurs. She kisses Rachel's nose.

"It's not a need, it's just a statement of fact. When one is right, one is right."

Quinn places delicate little kisses around Rachel's jaw line which are more meant to be comforting and affectionate than carnal. But Rachel's still left breathless.

"Come back to bed," Quinn whispers. "We still have lots of time before we have to get to campus."

Rachel hesitates-- she doesn't like deviations from routine, but her routine has been interrupted anyway.

"Okay," Rachel agrees quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

It's 7:30am when Rachel's phone rings.

It's her mother.

Quinn groans a little, but she has to get up to get ready for her 9am class anyway.

Rachel's first instinct is to leave the room to take the call, but she stays.

"Hi, mom."

"Rachel, I just got a very disturbing phone call from Sheryl. Would you care to explain what is going on?"

Rachel inwardly curses. 'That bitch,' Rachel seethes. She can't believe Sheryl's unmitigated gall.

"Mom," Rachel says quietly. "I-I didn’t do anything wrong. But I did tell Sheryl I thought it wasn't a good idea for her to stay here."

"Because _Quinn_ was jealous?"

"Is that what Sheryl told you?"

"That is the impression I got, yes. I will not have you dating someone who attempts to control whom you can and whom you cannot have contact with! A person like that is very likely to become violent and I will not have either of my girls paired with someone like that. This is a warning side and one you have to heed. I want you to end this relationship immediately."

"Mom--"

"Rachel, baby. Please. Listen to me. You're my _baby_. My first one. I know you love Quinn, but if she tries to control who you can have contact with, this is _alarming_! You've known Sheryl for years and--"

"Mom," Rachel says quietly. "Please trust me. I was the one who told Sheryl she can't stay here."

"But _why_ , baby? Was it Quinn who told you to--"

"Mom," Rachel interrupts. "Sheryl….she's not who she thinks she is."

"Sweetheart," Shelby says, sounding alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"Mom," Rachel whispers. "I-I can't tell you ev-everything. B-but Sheryl. She's not a good person. Please, mom. Trust me. If you love me. If you've _ever_ loved me, you have to trust me. Sheryl isn't a good person. You…you can’t trust her! Please, mom. You have to stop talking to her. I know. I know you’re proud of her-- but you can't trust her!"

Rachel thinks back to how Sheryl called her mother a 'cunt' and she knows that her mother is not safe as long as she stays in touch with Sheryl.

"Baby, what happened?" Shelby sounds alarmed.

Rachel cannot talk about her history with Sheryl to her mother. She has limits.

"Mommy, _please_."

"Rachel. Rachel, honey. I need you to tell me--"

"Mom," Rachel whispers. "I can't. Please just trust me! You can't trust her!"

Shelby sounds teary when she speaks. "Rachel, please. You sound so upset. Please, tell me what happened!"

Rachel gropes for Quinn's hand, holding tightly. "Mom, please…."

"Baby! You're _scaring_ me."

" _Mommy_ ," Rachel sobs. "Please. I can't…I can’t…"

Quinn pulls the phone away from Rachel. "Ms. Corcoran," she says softly. "Rachel is really upset. Can she call you later?" She pauses for a moment. "She's fine, physically. Okay, thank you."

Rachel sucks in a few deep breaths trying to reign in her emotions. She feels so rattled. She didn't think she'd care this much, but she does. She can't believe Sheryl's nerve.

"Baby," Quinn says urgently. "Are you okay?"

It seems like a dumb question to ask given the fact that Rachel is _this_ close to bawling her eyes out, but it means a lot to Rachel that Quinn would ask, that Quinn genuinely cares.

Rachel nods. She's fine, really. But she's crying because she's so _angry_ and she always cries when she's this angry. And she's also really sad because Sheryl is such a bad person and as a child, Rachel's crush on Sheryl bordered on painful. She feels even worse about giving her virginity to Sheryl now. For years, Rachel just thought there was something wrong with her and Sheryl was the normal one. Now seeing the depth of hatred Sheryl had for her mother and the way Sheryl still continues to stay in touch, Rachel knows there's something really wrong with the other woman. Now that day when she was thirteen seems so planned and methodical to Rachel and that somehow makes it worse than when Rachel just thought she was too young to be interesting for Sheryl.

"I'm okay," Rachel says hoarsely. "I just…I can't believe what a _cunt_ Sheryl is."

Quinn blinks, clearly surprised by Rachel using that word which is so uncharacteristic for her.

"She called my mother! Can you believe she had the gall to call my mother?! She called my mother a _cunt_ and said she was a bitch. But she still has the _cheek_ to call my mother and claim that I rescinded my invitation to her because you told me to. I rescinded it because she was _creepy_ and sent me naked pictures of herself and then proceeded to be very derogatory and denigrating toward me! Sh-she made you out to be controlling to my mother. My mother thought _you're_ controlling! She told me to end things with you because she thought you were going to be violent with me because Sheryl told her you were trying to control me!"

Rachel has so much rage building up inside of her, she needs to do something with it. She gets up from the couch and takes a few steps away, ignoring the way Quinn tries to reach for her.

Rachel walks to a wall and punches it as hard as she can with both fists.

The pain that shoots into both her hands is enough to cool her rage because she immediately feels ridiculous.

"Rachel! Jesus!" Quinn yelps, running over to her and taking both of Rachel's hands in hers.

"It _hurts_!" Rachel gripes.

"Well, of course it does, you dummy! You punched a wall!" Quinn guides Rachel to the kitchen and runs Rachel's hands under cold, running tap water while Quinn scrambles to get ice out of the freezer. "Dummy! You're a _musician_ what if you'd broken your hands?!"

Rachel cracks a grin. "Then you would have had to help me wipe my own butt!"

Quinn gives her a look. "I love you, but I'd hire someone to do that." She gets out two Ziploc bags and starts filling them with ice.

"You have the money to hire someone to wipe my butt, but not enough to hire a contract killer?"

"Well, it's also a tax issue," Quinn says. "A home health care nurse is a valid profession, whereas a contract killer is more of a black market thing. Payment has very different tax ramifications."

Rachel rolls her eyes and gingerly tries to flex her fingers. She can do it. It's a little sore, but there's no broken skin. She thought she would punch a hole in the wall or something, and she's a little chagrined to see that the wall isn't even dented. She's not as strong as she thinks.

Quinn wraps two clean dishrags around the Ziploc baggies and then puts them over Rachel's hands. She guides them to the kitchen table.

"Are you done Hulking out?"

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"You know, like the Incredible Hulk. Bruce Banner? Mild-mannered scientist turns into green monster?"

"Oh, like the movie? I didn't see it."

"It's also a comic book series and was a TV show."

Rachel grins. "Are you a secret comic book nerd like Jesse?"

Quinn flushes. "No," she says flatly.

Rachel's grin broadens. "You are!"

Quinn pouts. "I am not!"

"You know, we do live in LA. We should go to that little comic book convention that they have in LA every year."

"It's in San Diego," Quinn corrects. "And it's not little."

"Ha!"

Quinn pouts. "I was really _lonely_ as a kid, okay?"

Rachel immediately feels guilty. "I'm sorry, baby," she murmurs.

Quinn's pout becomes even more pronounced. "And I never read the Incredible Hulk ones. I read X-Men ones."

Rachel contemplates this. "If there's just one of them, is he or she called an X-Man or would he or she still be referred to as an X-Men?"

Quinn frowns and they turn away from one another as they think about this.

Finally, Quinn turns back to Rachel. "Whatever," she says. She lifts one of the ice packs and gently traces over Rachel's knuckles, wincing in sympathy when Rachel lets out a quiet hiss of pain. "I'm going to start referring to you as 'Anger Management,' now," Quinn teases.

Contrite, Rachel lowers her gaze to the table. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I have…a terrible temper. T-that must have scared you/"

"It did a little," Quinn admits.

"Sorry," Rachel whispers. "I've told you that I…I can't always trust myself when I'm angry. It's why when we have…disagreements, it's better if I just disengage."

"What do you do usually?"

Rachel shrugs. "Go for a run. Or I go to the gym and get on the elliptical for a couple hours. Or I'll head to campus and see if any of the practice rooms are open. Or I'll play my guitar. It's nothing very interesting, although now that I am saying it out loud, it would make for an exceptionally boring movie montage."

Quinn chuckles as she takes in the faraway look in Rachel's eyes. "You're picturing it now, aren't you?"

Rachel blushes. "Yes."

"What song are you thinking of to be in the background of your montage?"

"I was debating that," Rachel admits. "I could go with something more upbeat but cheesy, such as Joe Esposito's 'The Best Around' or--"

"From the original _The Karate Kid_?"

"Yes," Rachel confirms. "Can't you just picture it in the background as I go for a run or exhaust myself on the elliptical?"

Quinn chuckles. "What are your other options?"

"Something more sedate like…Joan Armatrading's 'The Weakness In Me.'"

" _10 Things I Hate About You_ already used that in their montage."

"Maybe a Sarah McLachlan song then."

Quinn grins. "I like 'World on Fire.' I can kind of picture a montage to that song."

Rachel contemplates it for a long moment. "Sure, why not."

Quinn brings Rachel's hands up to her mouth and kisses the knuckles. "This was so dumb of you, baby."

"I know," Rachel whispers.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Rachel assures quietly. "We should get ready for school."

"Okay," Quinn murmurs.

\--

Rachel finishes getting ready for her classes and decides it's probably best if she calls her mother back. She thinks this will be as good a time to call as any, because her mother should be in class, teaching.

She's surprised when her mother picks up.

"Mom? Why are you in class?"

"I got a substitute for the rest of the day. I'm at home looking up flights."

"Where are you going?"

"To _you_ , where else would I go?"

" _Whyweird_ , mom. She'd upset about how you used to coach her back in high school. And she was _mean_ to me. I know you think she's a good person, but she's not."

"Rachel, there has to be some kind of misunderstanding. I--"

"Mom, please trust me, there isn't."

Rachel is uncomfortable-- there are things parents and children aren't supposed to know about one another and Rachel thinks what happened between her and Sheryl falls firmly into that category.

"Rachel, I need more information than that."

"I-I can't. There is nothing more."

"Honey, you can tell me anything," Shelby whispers.

Rachel knows her mother is just trying to be supportive and she really does sound worried, but they've never had that kind of relationship with one another.

"Mom, please…just…don't worry. Don't come out here, nothing happened, nothing's going on. But don't trust a word out of Sheryl's mouth. She's a _liar_ "

"Rachel…"

"Mom, please just trust me. She's not a good person. Don't talk to her anymore."

"Of course I trust you," Shelby says quietly. "I…" she trails off. "All right, baby," she reluctantly concedes. "But I hope you can tell me what happened one day."

That will never happen.

"Thank you," Rachel says, relieved. "Please believe me about her, mom. Don't talk to her again. Please. I need to hang up and get to class, but please promise me that you won't talk to her anymore.."

"All right, Rachel," Shelby says, and she sounds tired and sad. "I trust you."

"And don't come out here, it's not necessary."

"All right, Rachel," her mother sighs. And she just sounds defeated. "But maybe I can go out there soon."

"Sure, mom," Rachel murmurs. "Let's find decently-priced airfare though. Maybe you can come out here during Spring Break."

"All right, honey. I love you."

"I love you, too, mom."

\--

Rachel feels restless for the rest of the day. She goes to her classes and then her shift manning the phones at Student Health. By then, it's the early evening and she feels exhausted.

She goes to Quinn's apartment and lets herself in with the key. She pauses when she sees Hope and Quinn sitting together at the kitchen table, laughing. The moment they see her, they both look a little guilty. Rachel's first instinct is to believe something happened between the two of them, but she castigates herself for that because Quinn would never do that to her, and Hope is dating Tim and they're perfectly happy together. Just recently, Hope gave her a thank-you card for introducing her to Tim.

"Uh, hi," Rachel greets.

She's actually happy to see Quinn and Hope together, laughing, like old times because she knows how much Quinn misses Hope's friendship.

"Hi, baby," Quinn says.

"Hi, Rachel," Hope says, smiling nervously. "Um, I should go," she says, grabbing her backpack.

"Hope, you don't have to leave," Rachel says. "It would be nice to spend some time with you--"

"I actually, uh, have dinner plans with Tim. But…definitely another time, Rachel," Hope says, looking a little nervous. She stands up and grabs her purse.

Rachel thinks Hope's behavior is _weird_ and Rachel is starting to get suspicious that maybe something did happen between Hope and Quinn, but when Hope pauses in front of her as she's leaving Quinn's apartment, Hope throws her arms around Rachel into a tight hug..

"You're an amazing person," Hope whispers. "Don't let anyone ever tell you differently."

"Thank you, Hope," Rachel says warmly, and she's immediately disarmed because she doesn’t think anyone with a guilty conscience would ever have done that.

Hope leaves and Rachel is left alone with Quinn, who begins to whistle and look away.

Rachel's eyes narrow. "You would make a very bad actress. What were you two up to?"

Quinn flushes. "Okay, don't be mad."

"You can't tell me not to get mad. I'll probably get mad."

"You know how Hope is a computer science major?"

"Sure…"

"Well…"

"Quinn…"

"Hope may or may not have helped me register Sheryl as a member of the Communist party," Quinn bursts out, flinching, as if to wait for Rachel's reaction. When none came, she went on. "She's going to get her membership card in about two weeks. And she may or may not be a known NAMBLA support now. And, uh… she has thirty four new magazine subscriptions." Quinn clears her throat. "And her water, power, and gas have all been shut off because DWP and the Gas Company thinks she's moved."

Rachel stares, incredulous. "Hope is a _hacker_?"

Quinn shrugs. "We…didn’t do anything with like, her credit. Although I wanted to," she adds. "Hope said that innocuous mayhem is better because no one is going to care about what we did, but people investigate things like identity theft. I actually wanted to fuck up her credit or something."

Rachel swallows hard. "You…you did that for me?"

"I wasn't going to let her just get away with it," Quinn says heatedly.

"Baby…that is…" Rachel swallows hard. "The most sweetest…and most disturbing thing anyone's ever done for me."

"I had to do it," Quinn whispers. "All day, all I could think about was ripping her heart out and punching her face in. I know I can't, but I had to do something."

Rachel smiles. "You're pretty scary, baby. I'm glad we're on the same side." She bites her lip. "Did…did you tell Hope…"

"I just told her Sheryl was horrible to you. No details. She wouldn't have helped me if I asked for myself, but I knew she'd help me if it were you." Quinn pauses. "It felt nice to be around her again," she admits. "I really missed her."

"Maybe you guys can be friends again," Rachel murmurs. "Especially now that she is with Tim."

"I hope so," Quinn says.

There's a knock on Quinn's door.

"Did Hope forget something?" Rachel asks, looking around.

"I ordered a cheeseless veggie pizza," Quinn calls out, as she walks to the door.

\--

They settle on the couch, the pizza box resting on the couch cushion between them.

Rachel smiles gratefully. "Thanks for getting dinner. I didn't feel like cooking tonight. Honestly, I didn't even feel like warming something up in the microwave."

"I kind of figured," Quinn says quietly. She waits for Rachel to take a slice before taking one herself.

"Are you a mindreader?" Rachel jokes. "I've often suspected you were a mindreader, but then I realized if you could actually read my mind, you'd probably break up with me and possibly change your name so I couldn't find you to beg you to take me back."

"I wouldn't break up with you," Quinn says softly. "I actually think it would be really nice to be able to read your thoughts. Sometimes, you can be a little hard to…figure out."

"That was a joke," Rachel says, although it was a little true. "And anyway. I don't think I've ever had a thought I didn't say out loud," she jests.

"Sometimes I feel like you're holding back though," Quinn says quietly. "And then I don't know what to do when you're like that."

"I didn't know you felt like that. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Quinn looks at her blankly. "I just told you that I don't know what to do when you're like that, so I do nothing."

Rachel has to laugh. That was almost too logical. "Everyone holds back a little, sometimes," she murmurs. "But I don't think I hold back anything truly vital."

Quinn considers this. "Okay," she says softly, finally. She goes quiet for a moment and then asks, "would you rather give birth without the epidural or have to make out with someone with incurable halitosis for the rest of your life?"

Rachel appreciated the way Quinn always changes a topic just when she needs it. She needs a break from this topic. Unfazed by the abrupt topic change, Rachel asks, "for the rest of my life meaning every moment for the rest of my life or--"

"Like you're married to this person and you will have to make out with them, which you know, should happen pretty frequently."

Rachel thinks about it. She thinks it would be pretty terrible to have someone with incurable halitosis going down on her. "In your scenario of giving birth, is it vaginally or is it a Caesarian."

"Either or. It doesn't matter."

"I choose going without the epidural. I was delivered without an epidural and my mother has lived to tell the tale."

Quinn looks relieved. "Me too."

"I knew we were compatible." Rachel pauses. "Wait, with regard to the halitosis, are you trying to tell me something?" she teases.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Stop," she says as she leans in for a kiss.

Rachel licks her tongue across Quinn's lower lip as they part. "Mmm. Sugar."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Are you going to start singing that Echo and the Bunnymen song now?"

Rachel's brows furrow. "No," she says slowly. "Your lips literally taste like sugar. You have that lip gloss from Sephora, remember?"

"Oh," Quinn blushes. "Right."

"Wow, pretty full of yourself, baby. You think one kiss will make me spontaneously burst into song?"

Quinn blushes. "Well, no..."

Rachel grins. " _Lips like sugar, sugar kisses_ ," she sings.

Quinn laughs. "That song is not very clever, is it?"

"It would not be my first choice to serenade a person with, no," Rachel acknowledges.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "What would be?"

"I'm not certain. It's not something I've given a tremendous amount of thought."

This is a lie, of course.

"Oh," Quinn says, and she looks very matter-of-fact about it.

They finish up dinner and the night is spent in companionable silence as they watch movies on TV.

\--

It's pretty common to see students walking around UCLA carrying instruments because there are tons of music majors on campus, so no one blinks an eye when they see Rachel carrying her guitar around the next day.

No one blinks an eye when they see Rachel pull out her guitar and start strumming outside a building, even if it isn't the music building.

But _everyone_ stares when they see Rachel approach Quinn as she's exiting the building from her class.

_Won't you let me walk you home from school? Won't you let me meet you at the pool?_

_Maybe Friday I can get tickets for the dance. And I'll take you. Won't you tell your dad "Get off my back"? Tell him what we said 'bout 'Paint It Black'_

Quinn just stares at her for a long moment, but then a wide grin breaks across her face. Rachel smiles back at her before she continues on with the song.

" _Rock 'n' roll is here to stay. Come inside now it's okay and I'll shake you. Won't you tell me what you're thinking of? And would you be an outlaw for my love? If it's so, then let me know._

 _If it's "no", well, I can go. I won't make you_ "

It's a short song-- just about two and half minutes long. Rachel knows it's a literal choice in songs-- she literally wants to walk Quinn home from school. They both took the shuttle to campus today because gas prices have been _insane_ lately, and the day is warm and sunny.

Rachel loves this song because it's so _sweet_.

Quinn stares at her when Rachel finishes the song and Rachel barely has a chance to set her guitar down when Quinn closes the space between them and grabs Rachel by the front of her belt. Quinn yanks and practically smashes their lips together.

Rachel is a little breathless when they part. "Hey."

Quinn smiles. "Hey," she says softly. "I thought you never put much thought into serenading a person."

"You aren't just any person," Rachel murmurs. "You're you."

Quinn rests her forehead against Rachel's. "No one's ever serenaded me before."

"Have you ever dated a penniless musician before? I will serenade you all the time if you wish. We can be very _Moulin Rouge_ -esque, but without the absinthe hallucinations or tuberculosis deaths."

Quinn snorts. "He was a playwright in that, you know. If we were being accurate, you'd be Nicole and I'd be Ewan."

"Quinn, I strongly urge you to use their character names, as the character and actor are separate. And _you_ would be Santine and I would be Christian."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Why do I have to be the hooker?"

"She wasn't a hooker, she was a _courtesan_ and why should I be the prostitute?"

"Because you're the songbird, baby."

" _And I'll love you, I'll love you, I'll love you like never before, like never before,_ " Rachel sings in reference to the Fleetwood Mac song, 'Songbird.'.

"See?"

Rachel huff. "Fine, for you, I will be the hooker."

"I thought you said she was a courtesan," Quinn teases.

"I was just being politely euphemistic," Rachel huffs.

Quinn grins. "Aren't you going to walk me home?"

Rachel smiles crookedly. "Certainly. I would not have gone to all this trouble if I did not intend to fulfill my promise."

Rachel packs up her guitar, slings her backpack over her shoulders and takes Quinn by the hand.

She starts to hum 'The Future's So Bright (I Got to Wear Shades)' as they walk.

"Nerd," Quinn whispers.

Rachel turns to Quinn and just grins and makes a silly face.

"Nerd," Quinn repeats with a fond smile.

This is true.

For the first time in her life, Rachel feels true satisfaction and contentment with her life, and of course, the best part is that she genuinely feels things are only going to get better from here. She's only a _little_ psychic, so she doesn't know what the future holds, but as she and Quinn walk back to Quinn's apartment, she daydreams about the future-- little glimpses of a life with Quinn.

She doesn't see award shows, stage lights, adoring fans and paparazzi. Nor does she see herself in a recording studio, reading scripts or getting her star on the Walk of Fame.

What she sees is far more mundane-- and far more appealing. She sees older versions of her and Quinn, a big backyard, little kids in animal costumes running around and screaming 'mommy!' She sees herself romping around on a living room floor cluttered with building blocks and stacking toys and pretending to be a monster for her shrieking, laughing children. She sees herself giggling with Quinn over breakfast in bed. She pictures bickering with Quinn over misaligned shoes by their front door (because even in daydreams, Rachel is honest about her OCD tendencies) and spraying Quinn with the hose attachment from a sink. She has an urge to build a snowman with Quinn. She can see resolving debates through rock-paper-scissors and being a poor sport when/if Quinn wins. She envisions playing the 'would you rather' game with Quinn until they're old, doddering and incontinent.

It's all so mundane, but Rachel really hopes her daydreams are premonitory.

Well, hopefully not the incontinent part.

But everything else.

She knows she and Quinn are not unique. There are plenty of people in love all around the earth. But she doesn't need to be unique, because she already knows she's lucky.

And while walking hand-in-hand with the girl she loves is ordinary and mundane, it is _exactly_ what Rachel wants.

The End.


End file.
